


A Black Opportunity

by Black_Phoenix_I



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Phoenix_I/pseuds/Black_Phoenix_I
Summary: Falling through the Veil should have been terrifying. It wasn't. Seeing his mother and Sirius probably should have been expected. It wasn't. Neither was the opportunity they presented.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Harry Potter
Comments: 28
Kudos: 176





	1. Through the Veil

**A/N: Welcome to** **_A Black Opportunity_ ** **! I hope you all enjoy it. Many thanks to Meneldur, The ReaperD, AppoApples, Nauze, and Saliient91 for all their help! Of course, I do not own** **_Harry Potter_ ** **, I merely play in JK Rowling’s sandbox. Onto the story:**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Through the Veil**

_July 31, 2003_

“Break-in in the Department of Mysteries, Code 2 response teams move out!” the voice of Gawain Robards gave no room for dispute. 

Not that Harry Potter was too concerned about that at the moment. He had been spoiling for a fight. A part of his mind said that he should have taken the day off after breaking it off with Ginny, especially considering that it was his birthday after all. After everything they had fought about the night prior, he wasn’t in the correct mental state to be going into a possible battlefield. It was irresponsible and reckless. True to his Gryffindor nature though, Harry’s blood was burning to hunt down a Death Eater or two. 

He got up from his spot at his desk, pulling on his navy Auror cloak. It was a beautiful piece of spell work. It was designed to be light but charmed to withstand any climate and still have the wearer feel comfortable. As he made his way to where Robards was sending off squads, he avoided casting any glances at Ron. He was sure by now that Ron knew a good bit about what had happened the night before, and he did not want to be any more distracted than he was already feeling. That would just cause more problems in a fight. 

“Right, four intruders, reports indicate that Rodolphus Lestrange is among the possible suspects, be prepared for Unforgivables,” Robards briefed. “Potter, take Westen, Savage, Weasley, and Longbottom with your strike team. Let’s see if you blokes can’t catch them unaware.”

Harry nodded and looked over as the three aforementioned wizards and one witch made their way to him. He took a final glance at them before leading the strike force to the emergency elevators. With a wave of his wand, the doors opened and the five of them stepped in. It was a bit cramped but the others took a corner while Harry took the center of the cab. With a wave of one of the junior auror’s wand, the elevator began moving to the lowest levels of the Ministry. The entire ride stayed quiet, with even Ron not making a joke of any kind as they made their way down. This was unusual for Ron, but Harry figured that he was recalling their first incursion into the Department of Mysteries, just as he himself was doing. 

His thoughts turned to his first few months as an auror. They’d just finished a raid, capturing Daniel Greengrass’ disowned older brother, Marcus. The little snot had taken out one of the senior aurors before a well-placed _Stupefy_ from Harry had knocked him out. Harry had been glad that they had tagged another Death Eater, however Minister Shacklebolt, still acting as Head of the DMLE, had _not_ been pleased. He had called Harry into his office almost immediately.

_“Tell me Harry, was it WORTH it?” Kingsley’s voice was abnormally quieter than usual, and Harry was immediately put on edge, “We’ve lost three aurors since the Battle of Hogwarts. All of them in Death Eater raids. Was losing Auror Williams worth letting Marcus Greengrass taking an extra victim before a stint in Azkaban?”_

_“But sir-” Harry tried._

_“Don’t ‘but sir’ me. Marcus Greengrass will spend ten years in Azkaban, fifteen if we’re lucky. Then he’ll be out of prison once again, causing more death once again. We’re still at war, Potter. We don’t have the time, and quite honestly, the patience, to coddle your sensibilities. You need to aim to kill, because the next person that we might lose will be Ron, Neville, or Susan. Is that what you want? Because if you keep it up, you’re going to lose friends before all of this is over.”_

_Kingsley sighed, running his hand over his bald head. His voice was noticeably softer when he spoke again, “You’ve got the makings of a great auror in your bones, Harry. But, we’re not going to coddle you anymore.”_

_“Sir?” asked Harry, feeling, not for the first time, distinctly unsure of himself._

_“I will be pairing you up with Robards. He’s going to be training you in how to cast more efficiently. You’re damn powerful, he’s going to teach you how to channel it. Now get out.”_

_Harry stood and made his way to the door. He paused, his hand sitting on the gold handle, and turned to the man he considered a friend and mentor, “I am sorry about Auror Williams’ death.”_

_Kingsley nodded, “Honour him by becoming better, Harry. Do that, and I will consider it even. Leave me, I need to write a letter to Alexander’s wife.”_

His robes swished behind him as he stepped off the elevator. Up ahead, Harry could hear the sounds of an ongoing battle. He brandished the now familiar elderwood wand that he now carried as their response team picked up their pace to get support to the Unspeakables. He missed his holly wand, but he was never able to fix it, even with the help of the Elder wand in his hand. Spells were flying about as they entered the Department of Mysteries. 

Harry allowed himself to fall into the familiar flow of battle. This wasn’t the first incursion by rogue Death Eaters that were still griping about the death of their master. It was almost sad in a way, they claimed to be all for blood purity, yet their constant attacks had resulted in the end of seventeen more Pureblood lines. 

Harry snorted at that. _That’s a crapload of shite._ They didn’t care about purity. As Tom Riddle had once said: “ _There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it_ ”. While Harry didn’t ascribe to the Dark Lord’s views, he recognized the truth behind the veil of blood purity. Yes, it wasn’t about their precious blood purity, only power, both political and magical, and who was able to seek it.

It didn’t matter that even after all of these years, the purebloods still held a majority of the political power in Wizarding Britain. Nor did it matter that there were no elective seats in the Wizengamot, only hereditary ones, those afforded to Department Heads, and the Minister and their secretaries. No, Death Eaters just wanted to be the ruling class to assert their anarchical views upon the country.

“Potter, keep an eye out!” Samantha’s voice called out, shaking Harry out of his thoughts. A blue spell, likely the Organ-Swelling curse, barely missed his torso. He could hear Robards cursing his carelessness in the back corner of his mind. He forcibly silenced the voice and cast a Bone-Breaking curse back at the source of the last curse. 

“Damn,” he cursed as a last minute _Protego_ kept his own spell from hitting home. He turned to Ron, “Give me a count.”

“Four reported wands, but I’m only seeing three, looks like Rodolphus is missing. Were you really expecting the Unspeakables to get it wrong?” Ron snorted as he fired multiple curses towards the opposing Death Eaters. 

_I expected them to take care of their own bloody Department,_ Harry kept himself from grumbling out loud, “I’m going to take the Death Room,” he said, placing his hand on Ron’s shoulder, “If they’re here, it's for a reason. Finish these guys off, I’m going to go find Lestrange.”

Ron nodded as Harry broke away from the group. He left them behind, slipped on the Cloak of Invisibility, cast a _Silencio_ on his feet, and went down the hall, towards the room that housed the Veil of Death. Harry had no doubt that the Death Eaters were hoping to find some artefact or ancient magic to bring their long deceased master back from the grave. Harry kept his wand aimed out in front of him. 

Just like the last time he had fought Riddle’s Death Eaters in the Department, the corridors were suspiciously empty. _You’d think after the last break-in, they’d have invested some time into putting up a decent security force. It’s not like they couldn’t afford it._

Unlike last time though, the silence and deserted feeling of the hallways didn’t bother him. He had a job to do and a bone to pick with Lestrange. Harry hadn’t gotten his comeuppance against Bellatrix, so taking out her husband would have to do. Ahead of him, he saw the door of the Death Room and he sent a powerful Banishing charm at the door, quickly overpowering the smaller wards laid upon the door.

He flicked up a shield with his wand to stop a particularly nasty looking purple spell, the standard Organ Liquifying curse if he recalled correctly. Granted, it would probably be a bit worrying to both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley that he viewed _any_ dark curse as “standard” in his day job. 

He slashed his wand and a Bone-Piercing hex flew back at Rodolphus, hitting the man’s offhand arm in the elbow. Harry made his way into the room, launching a volley of curses, probing Lestrange’s defenses. Rodolphus proved to be as able a fighter as he had been during the war, launching a quick _Avada Kedavra_ followed by multiple other dark curses. Harry dodged the Killing Curse and parried the rest. He recognized all of them, and Harry repressed his urge to roll his eyes. _He’s trying to play with me. If he wants to play, let’s play._

Harry began conjuring shadow ravens, a staple of Black family battlemasters. They immediately launched themselves towards Rodolphus. While they kept the Death Eater busy, Harry made his way deeper into the room. He rolled his shoulders, focusing himself back towards his foe. Unlike many dark curses, _Corvi Umbrae_ had a single purpose, to completely enthrall and distract the caster’s opponent. As Harry was about to be reminded, however, Rodolphus had not been a member of Voldemort’s inner circle just because of the financial support the Lestranges had supplied. 

Rodolphus had used a Flame-Whip Charm to chase away the shadow ravens. Harry had a Lightning Curse ready when Rodolphus looked over Harry’s shoulder and cast a white spell at the ground in front of Harry’s feet. Harry let loose the curse, catching Rodolphus unaware, but he didn’t recognize the spell for what it was until it was too late. 

The words _Bombarda Maxima_ flashed in Harry’s mind as the ground before him exploded, sending Harry flying backwards. His last sight was of the Lightning Curse hitting a grinning Rodolphus even as Harry’s body was launched into the Veil of Death. It didn’t matter to Harry, he’d gotten the bloody bastard.

* * *

In hindsight, falling into the Veil of Death should have felt more death-like and frightening, similar to when Harry marched up to his death before the final Battle of Hogwarts during the Second Voldemort War. Instead, for once, it’d felt just like Sirius had told him in the Forbidden Forest, “Quicker and easier than falling asleep”. There was definitely much less fear in his heart as he closed his eyes and flew through nothingness... only to suddenly land on his back. 

The first thing that he noticed after landing was the crackling of flames, like the popping of candy in your mouth. The second thing he registered was that, wherever he was, it smelled like autumn. He opened his eyes and was surprised to see the Gryffindor common room. He slowly pushed himself up and looked at the fire. Feeling a slight chill, he immediately made his way to the flames and began to warm his hands. 

“Hello, Harry.” The words were spoken so softly that Harry might have missed them. If they weren’t spoken in a voice that he hadn’t heard since that fateful night in May of 1998, he probably would have jumped. Instead, he closed his eyes as tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes. He turned to look at the man that he had regarded as almost a second father. 

Sirius looked so much healthier than he had been when he was on the run. Harry let his eyes roam over the man, drinking in the sight, afraid that if he closed his eyes, Sirius might disappear once more and he would wake up as if it had all been a dream.

“Sirius?” Harry’s voice came out as a question, his tone quavering.

The older man gave him that trademark grin, “That’s my name.”

“Is it finally over?” Harry asked quickly. He needed to know, he was not sure that he could take it again if he was to be ripped away from them again. Sirius gave him a small frown and motioned to the seats by the fire. Harry took the cue, sitting down together, leaning forward to be closer to Sirius as a new voice entered the room.

“I suppose that depends. Are you sure that you’re ready for it to be?” Harry turned as he recognized the voice of his mother. She was no longer translucent, and Harry could not help but lean into her hand when she rested it upon his cheek, more tears streaming down his face. He broke into sobs because for the first time since he could remember, he felt his _mother’s_ touch. 

Lily pulled Harry into a hug, rubbing his back as ugly, shuddering sobs wracked his grown frame. Quiet sobs told Harry that his mother could feel it too, and was just as overwhelmed as he was. He could smell a light perfume and he inhaled deeply; Harry could _finally_ hug his mother. That, more than anything, slowed his tears to a stop. He slowly pulled back from his mother and looked at her through red, bleary eyes.

“I’m ready Mum. I’m so...” he struggled to find the correct words, “tired. I’m ready. I don’t have anyone since Ginny and I aren’t a thing anymore, and the Weasleys and Hermione will be able to move on without me. The Wizarding World will be fine without _The-Man-Who-Conquered_. I just want to rest, don’t make me give that up.” He sucked in air, the brief statement having finished what little he had left in his lungs after his sobs.

Lily’s face took up a frown when his voice had turned sour at the end. She hugged him again and tried to console him, “Maybe so, but you’ve never had a chance to live your life properly.”

Harry let out a watery chuckle at his mother’s assertion, tears beginning to flow once more at the thought of having a family of his own. He was finally with the only family he had ever known, and even that, only after dying. What life could he have ever lived properly without them? “What do you mean?”

Lily nudged Harry back to the chair, “You need to understand. The last time Voldemort tried to kill you, he took away his own Horcrux instead. Then you united the Hallows.”

Harry looked about ready to interrupt, prompting Lily to keep going before he could, “I know, it wasn’t intentional. We saw you trying to get rid of them. The problem is, you weren’t supposed to die. If it wasn’t for you being flung through the Veil, you likely would have lived for centuries, as the Master of Death. By taking them through the Veil, you’ve cleansed them of their taint.”

“Their taint?” Harry questioned, his eyebrows scrunching together in a fashion reminiscent of how his father’s face would appear when Lily tried to explain something he could not fully understand, causing her to smile wistfully.

“You are the first person to successfully merge them. By bringing them with you through the Veil, they’ve been cleansed of their previous owners, affording you another chance at life,” Lily answered.

Harry looked at both of them and asked, “Another chance how??”

Lily smiled softly again, running her fingers through her son’s hair, “If you agree, you will be sent back in time and have to fight against Voldemort from an earlier point, allowing yourself the chance to get to save many more lives than those that were lost originally. That said, if you choose to go back, you won’t get another opportunity to make a life for yourself if you die again.”

Lily paused and turned to Sirius, obviously hesitating to continue and Harry thought of what she’d said, _an earlier point_. He took the chance to ask, “When exactly would I be going back to?”

Sirius was the one to answer when Lily looked a bit pained at the thought of answering, “That’s the thing, Harry. In 1971, your great-uncle and aunt, Charlus and Dorea, were killed in Diagon Alley by Death Eaters. They’d caught them unawares and Charlus gave his life to save another of his grand-nephews and his grand-nieces. It snapped the mind of my great-aunt, Dorea. She went on a rampage and killed 3 Death Eaters before being killed herself. This event was disastrous,” Sirius said, running his hands through his hair, “while my grandfather refused to ever join Voldemort, he did decide to not interfere.”

“In the Grindelwald War, Arcturus and Charlus were on the same squad and they were demons on the battlefield and masters of the political arena. By removing them from the equation, Voldemort was able to get laws passed in the Wizengamot without an organized opposition. You’ll be going back to the day it happened, July 31st 1971. You’ll have a couple of hours before the attack starts, at around noon, to get to Diagon Alley.”

Harry looked at them, distraught, “But, what about you guys? Will I see you guys again?”

Lily placed a cool palm on Harry’s cheek as tears tracked down the side of her cheeks, “Not like this. But you’ll have the chance to know us as we were growing up,” she gave a teary sob as she hugged him close to her.”

Harry looked at Lily and Sirius and pulled them into a close hug, “I’m going to miss the both of you so much, but I’ll do it,” he looked at Sirius and grinned, “How could I pass up a chance to see the Marauders in action?”

“Plus, a chance to properly fall in love, spit out some more Potter terrors.” Sirius added in with a sly grin.

Lily glared at Sirius, “Be seri-,” she stopped and restarted, “Hush yourself, you know what needs to be done. It’s time for you to go. Always remember that we’re so proud of you Harry. We will always love you.”

Harry began to shiver as the world around him began to fade. For a moment, the world was dark as he closed his eyes. Then the feel of hard, stony ground met his back, forcing out a grunt of Harry as he took a moment to just rest against the ground in what he was sure was the Death Room. 

His _mother_ . She had been right in front of him. He had _hugged_ her. Now she was gone and he was _where_ ? He opened his eyes, seeing the archway of the Veil of Death above him, seemingly inert. He was tempted, briefly, to jump back in, but he thought of what his mother and godfather had told him. He was _needed_ here. In _1971_.

He stood and looked down at himself, glad to see that the Cloak of Invisibility was still in place. He cast another “ _Silencio_ ” to replace the one he had cast before his ‘death’, and quietly left the room. Entering the hallway, Harry unobtrusively made his way out of the Department of Mysteries.

In the atrium of the Ministry, Harry was glad to see that it was pretty quiet. He ducked into a corner and cast a _Tempus_ . It was still early morning. He tucked his wand away and he walked towards the entrance of the Ministry. As he passed the wizard at the desk, Harry cast a _Confundo_ at the guard, making the man turn and look at other people in the atrium. Harry silently passed him and made his way out of the Ministry and onto the streets of London. 

Moving into an alleyway, Harry removed his cloak and transfigured his clothing to look slightly more muggle-like. He then conjured a hat to help hide his face from the public. _It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do until I reach Tom’s_. He put away the wand and walked out of the alleyway, glad that like the Ministry, the streets of London were pretty quiet. 

Harry passed a newspaper stand and checked the front page of _The Times_ . At the top of the paper, surely enough, was the date, _July 31, 1971_. Harry nodded to himself and walked back into the alleyway, apparating to a traditional apparition point near Gringotts bank. He would rather head straight to Diagon Alley instead of going through the Leaky Cauldron first. It would be easier to avoid attention from people that way. 

Harry thought of the attack that he knew would happen later today. If he let the DMLE know now, there was no guarantee that they would believe him. He would have to wait for the right moment. He cast another Time-Check charm. _8:50_. He still had some time to kill before he sent a Patronus to Barty Crouch Sr. The thought of working with the man made him shudder a bit.

Harry looked up at the bank sign and dipped his hand into his pocket. He was reassured to feel his sack of galleons there. He always liked to keep a bit of gold on hand. He looked at the shops around him before making his way to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. It looked much less worn down than it had in his time, when it was Madam Malkin’s daughter that ran the shop after the woman’s death in 1998. The sign indicated that the shop was already open, so Harry entered quietly.

Madam Malkin, still wearing the same mauve robes that Harry remembered from his younger years, though looking quite a bit younger, looked up from her place at the counter, “How can I help you today?”

Harry smiled fondly at the squat witch, “Good morning, I have it on good authority that you sell quality robes, which is what I am in the need of. Just got here from France, and lost my bags over the Channel.”

Madam Malkin shook her head in sympathy and gestured him over, “So, a full set will it be, then?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, please, some dress robes as well if you can.”

The woman nodded and gestured him over to a set of mirrors, “Let me take your measurements and we’ll see what I can do for you.”

She ran her wand over his body, taking various measurements and muttered notes to herself before disappearing into a back room. Harry stayed by the mirror, whistling a little tune to himself while he waited. Not much had changed in the shop since Harry’s time. He noted the section of Hogwarts robes with fond memories. 

He wondered how he would fill the time when he wasn’t actively hunting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He supposed that it would be a great time to get to know his father and eventually Sirius. That was, if he could convince his grandfather and his great-uncle that he was who he said he was. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Madam Malkin came back with a bag in one hand, wand in the other. She set it on the counter and said, “That will be 17 galleons, 2 sickles, and 22 knuts please, dear.”

Harry dug into his pockets, pulling out the sack of gold. He counted out 18 galleons and set them on the counter, “Keep the change. Have a great rest of the weekend, madam.”

Harry took the bag of robes and exited the store. As he walked out of the shop, he heard a commotion down the street, causing Harry to flick out his wand, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The familiar stag leapt forward, and not seeing any dementors, turned back to its creator questioningly.

“Go to Barty Crouch Sr. and tell him that there’s an ongoing attack in Diagon Alley.”

The stag whisked away and Harry jumped into the fray. Ahead of him, he saw a masked Death Eater about to send a Killing curse towards the back of an older man fighting another Death Eater. Harry flicked his wrist and summoned a slab of rock to block the curse. When the rock shattered, another incantation sent the shards back at the Death Eater as throwing knives. The man was only able to block a few of them before they pierced his body, sending him down to the ground, most assuredly dead. 

The other man turned towards him momentarily surprised, but quickly continued his duel with his opponent. Harry turned, sending a Blasting curse at another Death Eater’s head. The telltale ‘pops’ of apparition told Harry that the Aurors had finally arrived. As they engaged the Death Eaters, Harry turned towards one of the shops that was now up in flames. He cast an Aguamenti charm, hoping to put the flames out. He was just glad that it wasn’t Fiendfyre consuming the shop. That would have made his work much harder. 

When the flames were gone, Harry turned back towards the fading battle. Only a few duels were still ongoing and the aurors were winning handily. He recognized the enthusiastic yells of Alastor Moody as the (less) grizzled auror battled against two different Death Eaters. Harry could swear that the old man was grinning. He turned and helped another auror with dispatching another Death Eater, blocking a Killing curse from hitting a young kid.

When all was said and done, there were four dead Death Eaters, and Harry was almost certain that he had killed three of them.The rest of the Death Eaters were bound and stunned. Alastor was currently speaking with the man that Harry had saved earlier. He was looking a bit frustrated, and Harry nearly winced when Alastor’s roving eyes focused on him. 

The auror turned and went up to Harry, followed by the older gentleman. Harry slid his wand into his holster. He had no desire to make Moody any more suspicious of him than he already was, and his unique wand would certainly do that. He considered himself lucky that Moody hadn’t acquired his magical eye yet, meaning he couldn’t see beneath Harry’s sleeve. 

“Charlus here tells me that you _handled_ the rabble, want to tell me what happened?” Moody grunted. 

Avoiding looking at the man he was sure was his great-uncle, Harry calmly explained the events that had happened after he entered the alley. He made sure that he told Moody about sending the Patronus to the DMLE when the attack first began. 

“Right. I should have asked this earlier, but what’s your name, lad?” Moody was still looking suspicious, but Harry was sure this was more about his methods rather than actually thinking that Harry was a Death Eater himself. 

Casting a quick glance at Charlus, Harry answered, “Harry Evans.”

Moody grunted, “Right, where can I find you later on?”

“I just arrived in Britain this morning. I will likely stay at the Leaky Cauldron, though if I move residences, I shall let you know by post,” Harry offered. 

Moody nodded and walked off, an unfamiliar gait in his step since he still possessed both legs. Harry quietly watched him walk away while Charlus stayed behind. 

“Now that that matter is over, would you like to tell me what your real name is?” Charlus started.

Harry gaped at him, stunned into silence for a moment, “What do you mean?”

Charlus pointed his wand at Harry’s right hand, “I know the Potter Family Ring when I see it. Once again, what’s your real name?”

* * *

 **A/N: So, Chapter One is in the books. Next week will be Chapter Seven of** **_Forged Through Resilience_ ** **. I would like to announce that I have a Discord now for my stories! The invite code is https : // discord . gg / BR67c7K4BR (just remove any spaces; or alternatively, copy the last section and paste it into the invite section of Discord. Hope to see you guys soon and make sure to leave a review if you enjoyed it (or hated it tbh).**


	2. Meeting the Family

**Welcome to Ch. 2! I had planned to release a chapter of** **_Forged Through Resilience_ ** **first, but due to some issues, that will likely be pushed off for a while longer—anyway, many thanks to Meneldur and Nauze for their ongoing help on this story.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Meeting the Family**

**Potter Ancestral Manor, Stinchcombe, Gloucestershire, England, 8:17 a.m.**

Dorea Potter was busy tidying the office since the house-elves had not seen to it because of her husband’s, Charlus, orders. Charlus preferred that he and Dorea were the only ones to tidy up the office. He had a method of _organized chaos_ , as he liked to call it. Dorea had another name for it, _madness_. 

Her husband was brilliant; even as a student, he had held more knowledge in his head than most of Ravenclaw house. It was a point of contention that had irritated Professor Merrythought to no end. It tickled Professor Dumbledore, knowing that it was one of his students who consistently scored higher than all Ravenclaws. Brilliant though he was, Charlus was also chaotic. His office was always in a continuous state of flux.

Dorea shook her head clear of thoughts and turned to where the Potter family’s invisibility cloak lay. Or rather, where it was supposed to lay. The cloak was nowhere to be seen. Dorea drew on all of her Occlumency knowledge to avoid letting out a shocked shout. She immediately pulled her cedar wand out, casting diagnostic spells to see if she could draw out its location. 

The spells all returned negative, and Dorea sat in the office chair, suddenly feeling faint. Charlus would not like this, not one bit. She drew her wand to cast a messaging Patronus charm. Her husband needed to be informed immediately.

As she left the room, she did not notice a new entry reading “Henry James Potter (1949-)” on the family tapestry, right below the entry for one James Arturius Potter.

* * *

**Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, 8:17 a.m.**

Albus Dumbledore was sifting through some paperwork from the most recent spending bill that had been passed in the Wizengamot. He’d asked for some reductions of funding on the werewolf defence package, but the vote had fallen against him, 19-4 in the House of Lords, and 33-12 in the House of Commons. He hadn’t been expecting for Charlus Potter to work with James Bones, Cyrus Greengrass, and Arcturus Black to work together to fight the bill. All of the men were considerable political heavyweights in their own right; together, they were a force of nature. His spending cuts had not stood a chance. 

Albus placed the papers down and stood, making his way to one of the windows overlooking the grounds. He could see the half-giant Hagrid tending to the thestral herd near the edge of the forest. Albus turned back and began heading to his desk. He still had much work that needed to be done, especially with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. This was the sixth straight year with a new professor at the post. Each year, without fail, some occasion or worse would result in the loss of the professor. This last year, poor Professor Strickland had a run-in with an acromantula. It had not gone well for the young professor. Hopefully, this year’s professor, Kaitlyn Nameir, would not meet such a grisly fate. The headmaster was more convinced than ever that the rumours suggesting that the position had been cursed were true.

He heard the screech coming from Fawkes, his phoenix, just as he began to feel it. His hand went to his pocket, but it was too late. The Elder Wand was gone. He felt around, but all his hand found was dust. He pulled his hand and looked down. Staining his fingers was nothing but dark grey ash. 

He could no longer sense the Elder Wand. Whatever had happened to it, the wand was beyond his reach. He sat down at his desk and immediately began penning a letter. He would need to check the security at Nurmengard Prison. For all he knew, Gellert had somehow summoned the wand to him. 

For the first time in thirty-six years, Albus reached for his fir wand. Its phoenix core made it exceptional at transfiguration, and Albus savoured the warm feelings that surged through him. He pulled out the wand and looked down on it nostalgically. Though there was good reason to worry about the Elder Wand’s displacement, it felt _wonderful_ to be holding his fir wand once more.

* * *

**Diagon Alley, London, England, 12:39 p.m.**

_Fuck!_ Harry hadn’t even considered removing the Potter Family ring from his hand. It was a good thing that Harry kept the Black family ring on a chain around his neck. That would have been an explanation he would not have started to know how to work with. He sheepishly rubbed the side of his arm. 

“Do you have a place we can go and talk privately?” asked Harry. He didn’t need what we wanted to tell Charlus to get out into the public sphere of knowledge. Charlus looked at him warily but nodded. 

“We can go and speak at my house. I’ll need to call Fleamont and Euphemia over. As well as my mother. She’ll want to hear about this,” Charlus let out a sigh before continuing, “My wife is already upset about an heirloom going missing this morning. This will just be insanity to add to the madness.”

Charlus offered his hand, and Harry grasped the forearm, allowing the familiar feel of a side-along apparition as they travelled to Charlus’s chosen destination. Harry tried avoiding feeling too queasy. Side-along apparition had never felt too good for anybody, but it always seemed to affect Harry terribly. 

It took all of Harry’s abilities to keep from falling to the ground beneath him as they landed. He kept his hand gripped around Charlus’s arm. Harry failed to keep himself from letting out a loud gasp as he saw the manor before him. He’d always known that their family had property outside of Godric’s Hollow, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. 

Potter Manor stood on a hill that overlooked a vast forest. The walls were made of sheer red sandstone. Immediately in front of them was a gatehouse that led to the grounds beyond. As they passed under the gatehouse, Harry could see that the land in the front of the manor was flat, but Harry could see the drop to a deep moat. Stone gryphon golems patrolled the grounds, and Harry could see actual gryphons flying overhead. There was an ambient field of magic on the property, and Harry could feel _it_. He was home, and the magic in the wards over the land was recognizing him as one of its own. 

From the side, Charlus watched as Harry’s eyes filled with tears of wonder. The younger man seemed to be barely breathing. When he finally spoke, it was in a whisper, as if in a dream, “I’d known that there was a home. An ancestral home, but I could never find it. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined something like this.”

Charlus smiled as Harry’s tears fell unashamedly. Like all Potter children before him, Charlus had been raised at Godric’s Hollow, only being introduced to the manor when he graduated from Hogwarts. It had been an awe-inspiring event for him as well. He clapped Harry’s shoulder, jarring the younger man from his thoughts.

“Let us go inside and see if we can’t scrounge ourselves together some tea,” offered Charlus. Harry looked at him and returned his kind smile. He nodded, and Charlus led the way forward.

The gryphons looked at Harry curiously but seemed to have decided that he was trustworthy. They allowed the two men to pass, and they made their way to the large oak doors that led into the manor.

As Charlus entered the building, he knocked and called out loudly, “Dorea, mother, I’m home! I’ve brought us a guest.”

Harry watched silently as a younger house-elf popped into the room. The elf directed their question to Charlus, “Will master Charlus’ guest be staying here for the evening?”

Charlus nodded as he responded to the elf, “Yes, Mipey, please prepare a room on the second floor for Harry.”

Harry smiled down at the now identified female elf, “Thank you, Mipey. Your help is very much appreciated.”

The elf blushed and bowed deeply before popping out of the room with barely a sound. 

Charlus raised an eyebrow at Harry, “Looks like you’ve made a friend there.”

Harry blushed this time, “I’ve always gotten along pretty well with house-elves. They always seem to gravitate towards me.”

Charlus grinned, clapping Harry on the shoulder again, “That’s a good sign; house-elves tend to be excellent judges of character. Between Mipey and the gryphons, I’d say that I’m looking more and more towards our discussion on just who you really are.”

Harry smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his hair with his left hand. He looked up to the stairs as two women walked down. One of the women had grey hair with a soft round face that immediately reminded him of Neville Longbottom. _She must be related to them_. The second, much younger woman, made him think of Sirius, Andromeda, and Bellatrix. She had long black hair, held back by a small circlet above her brow. There was no doubting that this was Dorea Potter née Black. She held herself just as regally as Harry had seen in every other member of the Black family. However, her eyes were a softer grey, fondly reminding Harry of Sirius and Andromeda and their kind faces. A decent contrast to the purist members of their family.

When Dorea looked down at Harry, he could see something akin to recognition flash in her eyes before they changed to confusion when she saw the Potter family ring on his hand. She looked questioningly at Charlus before voicing it, “Who is this, Charlus? Why is he wearing your ring?”

Charlus looked at his wife sheepishly before turning to Harry, “There was an attack at Diagon Alley this morning. It’s okay though, this young man saved my life. Well, you heard her. Tell her who you are.”

Harry shot the man a small glare before turning to Dorea and the older lady and bowing deeply, “Good afternoon Ladies Potter, I am Henry James Potter-Black, though I prefer to go by Harry. And I was born in 1980, nine years from today, actually.”

The elder lady gasped, grabbing ahold of Dorea’s arm to keep herself from falling in her shock. Harry felt quite guilty, as he hadn’t meant to shock them so severely. He blushed when both Charlus and Dorea glared at him, making him wilt a bit. Their glares were terrifying.

The older woman looked at him, “Who were your parents, Harry Potter?”

Harry rubbed the back of his head, “James Potter and Lily Evans, a muggle-born.”

This perked Dorea’s interest, “A muggle-born, you say?”

Harry smiled fondly, “She was one of the most brilliant witches of her time. By the time she died, Lord Voldemort had sought to bring her to his cause many times. She died a true Gryffindor.”

“Lord Voldemort? That blood purist that emerged last year?” this question came from Charlus’s mother.

Harry nodded, “He killed my parents after discovering a prophecy that I would be his downfall.”

He continued on by telling them of most of his Hogwarts years but avoiding mention of the Dursleys. It was actually much more complicated than that, but Harry didn’t plan on letting Voldemort live long enough for the prophecy to be given. He watched his family’s reactions. Dorea was looking at Charlus nervously, while both his and his mother’s gazes were on Harry. It was Charlus who voiced the question that seemed to be on their minds, “Were you able to defeat the man?”

Harry dipped his head, looking down as he became lost in memories of battles hard-fought and hard-won, “We believed that I had destroyed him in 1981, but he used horcruxes to keep himself alive and returned from the dead in 1994. In 1996 he took control of the Ministry after Albus Dumbledore was killed by a spy at Hogwarts. In 1997 the final major battle of the war took place on Hogwarts grounds. I killed him there for the final time after disposing of his horcruxes. By the way,” Harry paused and looked at the older woman, “may I know your name? I was never able to catch it.”

“Lucille Potter née Longbottom. I married your great-grandfather in 1879. Now, let’s all go sit in the sitting room. It is there for a reason, after all. I’m not getting any younger.”

Lucille smiled as she saw Harry’s jaw drop as he did the necessary mental math; she was at least a century old. They all heeded Lucille’s words and followed the older lady into the sitting room. Harry marvelled at the beautiful tapestries hanging on the walls. Many of them depicted large-scale battles, and Harry could see small plaques detailing each one. He sat on one of the upholstered chairs and prepared to continue his tale.

Before he could say anything, however, Dorea asked a question, “If you defeated him, then how did you get back here in time?”

Harry breathed in deeply and pulled out the Elder Wand from its confinement, “In my timeline, I became the Master of Death after the Battle of Hogwarts. Despite multiple attempts to rid myself of the Hallows, they kept returning to me. I had been the first descendant of a Peverell to claim all three of them; hence, I was the only one who could use them to their full ability. I had inherited the Cloak of Invisibility from my father, the Resurrection Stone from the Gaunt family, and the Elder Wand from the body of Lord Voldemort.”

Dorea looked relieved, “So you have the cloak, then! It disappeared this morning, and we had no clue where it went. At least now we know where it went. My apologies, please continue.”

Harry smiled and did as she asked, “After the battle, I became an auror to help and end the war. Early this morning, I was called to deal with an incursion in the Department of Mysteries in my timeline. There, I duelled with one of the last remaining members of Voldemort’s inner circle. While I was able to kill him, his last curse sent me through the Veil of Death.”

Harry looked down at his hands and laughed humorlessly, “Imagine my surprise at seeing my godfather and my mother. According to them, as the Master of Death, I should not have died by the Death Eater’s hand. It had been an unnatural death, and it was one that Death wanted to rectify. I was sent back to this date,” he paused and looked Charlus in the eyes as he continued, “because, in my timeline, July 31, 1971, was the date that Charlus Potter was assassinated by Voldemort’s forces in Diagon Alley. Charlus’s death, and Dorea’s subsequent rampage, would result in Arcturus Black refusing to stop any family member from choosing a side in the civil war that would follow. I was sent back to prevent hundreds of deaths.”

“But what about your future?” 

The question came from Charlus, as Dorea was softly crying into her husband’s shoulder. Lucille looked as stricken as her son at the news of what could have happened earlier that day. Harry only smiled sadly when he looked at Charlus to answer, “I didn’t have much left for me in that world. I had long been prepared to die. To be given a second chance to know my parents, to know you guys and my grandparents. The chance was too good to pass up for me. When I was eleven, the Mirror of Erised was being housed in Hogwarts. When I looked through the mirror, which shows your deepest desire, I saw my family. When I graduated, I looked in the mirror a final time. Once again, I saw my family. I hope that after I get rid of Voldemort, I can get to know my family properly this time.”

All three of them were looking at him kindly, and Dorea stood from her spot next to her husband. Tear streaks were still visible on her cheeks when she bent down and gave Harry a soft kiss on his cheek. Dorea turned to Charlus, “We should ask for Fleamont, Euphemia, Arcturus, and Melania to come over. They will need to be told all of these things. We have plans that we need to come up with.”

Lucille nodded in agreement with her daughter-in-law, “After we speak with them, we’ll need to bring the Alliance together. We’ll need a war council with Harfang, Warren, and Septimus after we speak with Arcturus.” 

Dorea then looked at Harry’s hand once more, “You were the Head of House Potter in your time, then?”

Harry nodded and pulled his chain from beneath to reveal the Black family ring, “I also inherited the headship for the House of Black when my godfather died. He left it to me, as he didn’t want it going to the Malfoys because they were supporters of Lord Voldemort.”

“Your godfather?” asked Lucille.

“Sirius Orion Black. He starts at Hogwarts this year. In my timeline, he and James became closest friends during their school years,” answered Harry with a smile.

Dorea walked over to the fireplace. There was a large head of a buck hung on the mantle above it. She cast an _Incendio_ at the wood to get a small fire going. Dorea reached over and grabbed some Floo powder from a small basin. She threw it into the flames and called out, “Toujours Pur!” 

Harry watched, fascinated as the flames turned green before a head appeared in the fire. Arcturus’s head took a look at Dorea’s face and sighed, “Is everything okay over there, Dorea? Walburga and Sirius are going at it again, so you better make this quick.”

Dorea had a frown on her face for a split second but shook it away before responding, “We’d like to invite you and Melania over for dinner. Something rather urgent has come up, but we shouldn’t speak where we might be overheard. Fleamont and Euphemia will likely be here as well. It will be a casual dinner, so there’s no need to go all out to look nice. Besides, the topic of conversation will likely keep us occupied, and you will want to be comfortable.”

Arcturus nodded his head, “What time would you like us at the manor?”

Dorea thought for a moment, “Let’s go for seven. That will give Mipey the time she needs to throw something nice together.”

Arcturus nodded, “I’ll let Melania know. Let me go; I need to make sure that Walburga does not kill her child.”

He was gone the next moment, and Harry found himself liking Sirius’s grandfather. Dorea threw in another batch of Floo powder, this time calling out, “Potter Cottage!”

The head that appeared this time and Harry held in his breath as he realized who was in the fire. It was his grandmother. He gripped the arms of his seat, trying to keep his emotions in check. It became much more real to him now. He had living family members. He would be meeting some of them tonight. He’d already met his great-grandmother. His eyes turned to where she was sitting, watching him with a kind smile on her face as if she knew where his thoughts lay. He returned her soft smile. Yes, this was _all_ very real.

When he turned away from Lucille, Dorea had already finished speaking with his grandmother. Charlus was the first to say something, “These are the kinds of days when I wish Richard was still around to help out.”

Harry looked at him, confused, “Richard?”

Charlus pointed to a painting behind Harry, and the younger man turned to look at the still portrait that looked much like Charlus if a bit more rugged. Charlus continued as Harry continued analyzing the painting, “He was three years older than me. Both he and his wife, Marietta, died of dragon pox in 1949. He was the Head of House for 25 years. My father died early on in the war against Grindelwald. He was convinced that the Wizengamot would not do anything about a rising dark lord. He died in an assault on Nurmengard Castle. After Richard took the Head of House’s mantle, I signed up to join the fight against Grindelwald. I was eager and ready to avenge my father.”

He paused here and smiled at his wife before continuing, “I was fighting in the fields of France when I was struck by a nasty curse and ended up at Beauxbatons, which had become a hospital to help so many injured wizards. There I met Arcturus and Dorea, among others. Dorea stitched me up, and I fell in love. I married her in 1936. Then I returned to the battlefield. Arcturus and I put together a squad of men to do the dirty work, so to speak.”

Lucille listed them off, one by one, “You, Arcturus Black, Hector Longbottom, Warren McKinnon, Jonathan Abbott, Cyrus Greengrass, James Bones, and Abraxas Malfoy, a pureblood dream team if there ever was one. The heirs of eight families. The newspapers had a field day, saying they were foolishly throwing away their lives. Of course, they kept all of the criticism under thinly veiled praise for their willingness to lay their lives for their country.”

She turned to Harry, “You see, Harry, what no one was counting on, was for this group of wayward heirs to do _something_. In July of 1939, word reached the front lines that a secret Nazi battalion would be attacking British coastal fortifications under the command of Grindelwald and his Acolytes. Not two weeks later,” she pointed an accusing finger at her son who was grinning widely, “this man and his band of merry idiots attacked and defeated the battalion. Almost all of Grindelwald’s Acolytes were killed, including his right hand, Vinda Rosier. Grindelwald would return with a vengeance, but their victory would cement the idea that Grindelwald could be defeated.”

Charlus’s eyes had turned dark, “It took too long for that to happen, but I’m glad that it finally did. Well, let me show Harry to his room so that he can get ready for this evening.”

Harry stood then, feeling pops in his shoulders as he rolled them forwards. He followed his great-uncle as he led them up a set of stairs. On the walls were portraits of long-dead Potters. Harry could not help but feel moved as he looked upon his ancestors. 

“Are you okay there, Harry?” Charlus called back to him.

Harry let out some choked laughter, “After so long thinking I was the last one in my family, it...I can’t explain how good it feels to know that I’m not alone anymore.”

This caused Charlus to stop in his tracks and turn to face Harry. Catching the younger man by surprise, Charlus pulled Harry into a hug, “That’s right, we’re family, and I plan on you having a family for a good, long time.”

After a few moments, Charlus let Harry go, and he gave Harry a small tour of the house they were living in. Harry was fascinated by everything and the feelings that he had when he first arrived returned. _This_ was home, his home.

The room that Charlus showed Harry was about as big as the dorm rooms at Hogwarts. The walls were painted a maroon red, and the drapes were the colour of fine gold. A large bed in the room’s centre looked more like a cloud than a bed. 

“Hope this works for you; I’ll send Mipey up when it’s time for dinner. Of course, if you need anything, feel free to call Mipey, as the rest of us might not hear you in this big place,” Charlus said with a chuckle as he turned to the door. 

“Thank you,” Harry called to him, pausing for a moment before finishing, “uncle, for everything.”

Harry took out his bags from his shopping earlier in the morning and placed them on the bed. He pulled out his wand and began returning everything to their proper sizes. Harry laid out the robes on the bed before turning to the other matter at hand. 

He would need to get a trunk with compartments. It would be the best way to store the Resurrection Stone. In the meanwhile, a personal vault would have to function in its stead. He conjured such a safe and set the passcode to Ron’s birthday. After placing the stone in the safe and closing it, Harry cast extra wards and enchantments to keep intruders from trying to access the stone. 

Charlus and Dorea were in their room preparing for the evening meal. Both of them felt troubled about what Harry had told them. That a dark lord could cause so much mayhem for such a long time; it was even more troubling considering that Voldemort’s message was about blood purity. Grindelwald’s message had been about magical superiority over muggles, an ideal that most wizards and witches agreed with to some point. That blood purity could cause such a stall for so long was concerning. 

_Then again, British wizards have always been in favour of blood purity_. Charlus was not blind to his country’s faults. His was a country of such isolationism that most nations avoided dealing with them. When he was younger and more idealistic, Charlus believed that their isolationism made them stronger. However, Charlus had fought in Norway when Germany steamrolled over the country. With Grindelwald at their side, Germany conquered land after land. 

Charlus closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as memories of trenches and the bodies of dead men began to overwhelm him. Behind him, Dorea began kneading the scarred muscles of his back. She placed gentle kisses on his shoulders as she worked, and Charlus slowly counted to five. 

Dorea peered deeply into his eyes when he turned around to look at his wife. She spoke what they were both thinking, “War is on Britain’s shoulders. You heard Harry’s stories. They left children to fight a war, one not of their own design. We cannot let it happen again. A civil war led by a madman. _Horcruxes_ , Charlus! What could drive a man to do such a thing?”

Charlus pulled her into his arms, “I do not know, but you heard what could happen to little James, dying at such a young age.”

Dorea nodded, “The poor child. Forced to grow old younger because of a prophecy. He’s twenty-three years old. He should be exploring life, not preparing to fight in a second war. We will just have to do our best to help Harry. That’s why we’re doing this. So that when all of this mess is over, he- and James, and everyone else - can live the life they choose for themselves.”

Charlus just hugged her tighter to his body, soaking in the comfort that her warmth had given him for decades.

The evening air was cool as the sun dipped below the horizon. Harry was sitting at the desk that was offered in the corner of the room. After he had bathed for a good hour, Harry had noticed a small collection of books present in his room, and with nothing else to do until dinner was served, Harry had taken to reading these books. He was intrigued to note that some of them were hundreds of years old. There was even a potions book by one Linfred Potter, written in 1194. Harry could recognize a potion similar to Skele-Gro in the book, among several others. 

He was so enthralled with his current read that he nearly missed it when Mipey popped into the room. He turned from his book when he heard the patter of her footsteps. She was standing with a straight back and ears alert, “Mistress says that dinner is almost ready. She asks that Master Harry please go downstairs to be ready for Master’s guests.”

“Thank you, Mipey, I’ll be right down,” Harry smiled as she popped away. He stood from his chair, groaning a bit as his muscles stretched themselves. Casting a quick, “ _Tempus_!”, Harry saw that he had been sitting down for over three hours. He surmised that he likely would have sat reading through the night if Mipey had not come for him. 

He turned to his bed and grabbed one of the newer robes. He did not want to appear foppish, but one did not meet with the Head of the House of Black wearing rags, so to speak. He was glad that Molly Weasley had taught him many household charms when he decided to live at Grimmauld Place. They certainly helped now as he quickly pressed the robe to remove any wrinkles on it. 

When he was finished with the necessary charms, Harry put on the robe and made his way down the stairs. He quietly marvelled at the paintings around the house. Many depicted ancestors, but quite a few of them detailed entire stories. He made a note to himself that he would have to spend some time analyzing them. 

Charlus was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Harry. When the younger man reached the bottom, Charlus led him to the sitting room. Harry took a seat across from Lucille while Charlus stood by the Floo to wait for their evening guests.

“Did you find your room suitable?” asked Lucille as she sipped at a cup of tea. Harry thought that she looked much like a regal queen sitting before her subjects, despite her age. She placed her cup down, poured one out for him, and prepared it before offering it.

“Yes, I did, thank you for asking. It is one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever had the pleasure of staying in. Thank you also, for the tea, great-grandmother,” Harry gladly took the cup of tea that his great-grandmother offered him. The word had sounded weird to him as it rolled off of his tongue. In his lifetime, both sets of his grandparents had died before he reached eleven. To be even thinking of extended family members was mind-boggling. 

Lucille smiled at the use of the word, “It must seem awe-inspiring to consider that you have many more living family members than you thought you had. I’d like to touch on a subject that you did not touch on much when we spoke earlier at a later time: your life before Hogwarts. Do not concern yourself about it now, but I find it odd that you barely mentioned your home life.”

Harry struggled to keep his face and composed. The dark years of the Dursleys were not a time he wanted to speak of, though he could understand why his family would like to know. He startled when he felt a soft, warm pat on his hand; he looked up and saw seas of sympathy stretched out in his great-grandmother’s eyes, “I can see that the subject upsets you. We shall discuss it at a later, more convenient time.”

While her voice brokered no argument, Harry nodded anyway, looking back over at the fireplace where Charlus stood with a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He sipped at it quietly while glancing at his watch. Harry sipped at his tea; he was going to meet his grandparents today. It was hard for that to not bring a smile to his face. 

After a few minutes, the fireplace turned green, and Harry watched as a man that looked like an older version of Sirius walked through the flames. _Arcturus Black_ thought Harry. Like his grandson, he had thick black hair and steely grey eyes, though Harry could see some silver strands of hair on the sides of his head. 

Arcturus was followed by a beautiful woman. She had blue eyes and light blond hair. Her face reminded him of Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff, from his world. Considering how old Ernie’s family was, they were likely related in some way or another. Dorea had called her Melania if Harry could remember correctly. 

Almost immediately after they entered the room, Arcturus’s eyes focused on Harry, specifically a spot on his chest. Harry stood to meet the man, choosing to introduce himself first, “You must be Lord Black. I am Henry James Potter-Black.”

Arcturus immediately turned his head to Charlus, his eyes blazing accusingly, “You and Dorea had a son and never told me?”

Lucille stood and spoke before either Charlus or Harry could respond, “Oh, sit down, Artie, and listen before you hurt yourself. Let Harry explain things to you before you go on, wand ablaze. It’s a miracle you survived the war. Your entire family can be so hot-headed at times. You keep it up, and one day you’ll really hurt yourself.”

Charlus, Harry, and Melania shared amused glances as Arcturus promptly sat down, looking quite abashed, “I’m sorry, Lady Potter.”

Lucille merely nodded, and Harry smiled. If she carried herself like a queen, it was only because she was treated as one. He turned to Arcturus and offered his hand once more, “My apologies for surprising you like that, Lord Black. I should clarify that I was born in 1980. Nine years from today, to be specific.”

Melania took a seat next to her husband, “You have travelled through time?”

Harry nodded sheepishly, and Arcturus asked the next question, “How did you become a Black? Was your mother a Black?”

Harry shook his head, “My godfather, your grandson Sirius, named me his heir to prevent a Dark Lord from taking the money and magic of the Black family.”

The fire turning green kept Arcturus responding. Harry turned and watched as his grandparents stepped through. His eyes swept over them, drinking them in. His grandfather, Fleamont, was a tall man. Like the other Potter men that Harry knew of, he had dark hair. He wore no glasses and had a more worn face than Charlus. 

He turned his sights to Euphemia Potter. Unlike the rest of the Potter family, she had blonde hair and light blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with a youthfulness contrasted with the age lines on her face. She reminded Harry eerily of Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin in his time. 

Dorea walked in then, “Marvelous, we’re all here. Let us eat some dinner and then we can speak business. Mipey has prepared a delicious Sunday roast.”

They all went into the dining room and sat, though Harry watched as the older men each pulled out a seat for their spouses, with Charlus also doing it for his mother before taking his seat at the head of the table. For the first few minutes, the table was silent. All of them were focused on eating the delicious fare in front of them. Mipey had undoubtedly outdone herself. Harry caught Lucille's eyes on him while picking at his food, and Harry shot her a small grin that she returned.

Harry nearly snorted. As the family finished their meals, Harry listened quietly as they made some small talk, such as Melania discussing potions with Fleamont. Dorea and Euphemia discussing the gryphons, and Charlus and Arcturus discussing a recent Wizengamot session. Lucille sipped on a goblet of wine. She winked at Harry before asking Arcturus, “Did you get any information on the attack today in Diagon Alley?”

This stopped all the conversation at the table, and Arcturus took a sip of his wine before answering, “Aye, only three civilians were killed. However, among them was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for this year, Kaitlyn Nameir. She was a renowned French duelist. Albus Dumbledore will be looking for a new DADA professor.”

The Head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black turned and levelled his stare at Harry. Despite being his eventual successor, Harry felt like a little child once more before his gaze. The man spoke once again, looking slightly mollified at Harry’s nervousness, and asked, “Now Harry, I’d like for you to take us to the beginning and explain to us who you are and why you were sent here.”

Harry gulped deeply and explained everything. He explained how Charlus had been supposed to die and its effect on the rest of the Black and Potter families. He told them of the prophecy before his birth. Harry told them of how bad the war had gotten, how Sirius had been the first secret keeper after his parents went into hiding, and how Peter Pettigrew had been made the secret keeper. Then of how Voldemort had come for his family.

Next, he explained his placement with the Dursley family glossing over their treatment of him. He moved on quickly, speaking of Hogwarts’s letters, meeting Hagrid for the first time, and his love and wonder of the magical world when he’d seen Diagon Alley for the first time. All of the adults smiled at this; they had seen many children staring at Diagon Alley in wonder upon their first trip there.

Harry spoke of his first year and the shade of Voldemort that had possessed Professor Quirrel. He covered the duel with the man at the end of the year and how his mother’s sacrificial magic had protected him by killing Quirrel. He reminisced about his second year and the Heir of Slytherin mess, along with the terror caused by the basilisk. He shivered as he talked about the battle against Tom Riddle and the basilisk, showing them the scar on his arm. He ended that part of the tale by telling them how Fawkes the phoenix, Dumbledore’s familiar, had saved his life and allowed him to get rid of Tom Riddle’s horcrux. 

He paused to answer questions that they had. He then moved on to talk about Sirius Black and the dementors that had haunted his third year. Tears fell across many faces when he told them his memory of hearing his parents’ voices through the painful memories that the dementors brought forth of his parents’ deaths. He told them of the end of the year mishap with the dementors. He proudly cast the Patronus charm to show them his father’s animagus form. There were gleams of pride in both Fleamont and Euphemia’s eyes. Even Arcturus and Melania were riveted by the sight of the spirit guardian.

Harry moved onto his fourth year at Hogwarts. He talked about the Goblet of Fire debacle and the three tasks. He told them about the resurrection of Voldemort. He told them about the dementor attack that summer and his criminal trial. He told them about Dolores Umbridge and the torture at her hands in his fifth year. He told them about Sirius Black’s death at Bellatrix Lestrange’s hands and his use of the Cruciatus Curse in his rage. This had garnered looks of sympathy from the Potters and Melania, while Arcturus looked pensive. 

Finally, he told them of his final two years and how the war began and ended. He told them of Draco Malfoy’s mission and Albus Dumbledore’s eventual death at Severus Snape’s hands, a Death Eater turned spy. He covered the hunt for Tom Riddle’s horcruxes and the final battle, and his first “death”. He told them about his “resurrection” and the death of Voldemort. 

After this, he moved on to the years afterward, and his time as an auror. He finished with his discussion with his mother and Sirius and his actions earlier that morning at Diagon Alley. When he was finished, he looked down at his plate and nipped at his desert while he waited for them to cast their judgment on his tale. He was a bit surprised that he had shared as much as he had. 

Arcturus looked a bit shaken and spoke first, “I must admit something, and I hope you will all forgive me. I laced Harry’s drink with veritaserum when no one was noticing. I wanted nothing but the truth after what I heard in the sitting room.”

Harry froze and looked at Arcturus, and he could feel his eye begin to twitch. He had not even thought to check his drink for potions. He banged his head against the table; he could imagine his godfather laughing at him from the afterlife. _I am such an idiot_.

Charlus burst out laughing, though most of the others had glared at Arcturus. When they all turned their eyes to Charlus for an explanation, he smiled, “Artie has always been the consummate Slytherin. I’m honestly surprised Fleamont didn’t offer to brew some up himself.”

The glares softened as Lucille gave a short chortle, “Yes, Fleamont would usually be the one to propose such a thing.”

Dorea drank from her goblet and asked, “This still leaves us with some questions. How are we going to explain who Harry is? What will Harry be doing in the meantime? Until Riddle begins to act more publicly, there is not much to be done.”

Charlus looked over at Arcturus, and after a moment, the latter nodded. Charlus offered an idea, “Since Harry is still able to hold the Head of House rings, then it goes without saying that magically, he is still recognized as the head of both houses in this lifetime. And since we can still bear our rings, there seems to be a standing dual headship. Tell me, Harry, besides your work as an auror, is there anything you are qualified to do?”

Harry blushed, “I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts to the fifth years when Umbridge would not teach us anything. It has always been my best subject. I ended a thirty-eight-year-old curse on the DADA position at Hogwarts when I was twenty.”

Dorea nodded, “We could work with that. We still need to establish his background.”

Lucille spoke up here, “If Harry is 23 now, he would have been born in 1948 in our timeline. We could say he was Richard’s child.”

Charlus looked at Arcturus, “What do you think Arcturus, we could say that we kept him hidden as a Family Secret. To protect the bloodline. It would set him up as heir to the family, which would not be too far-fetched.”

Arcturus pondered for a moment, “Tomorrow, we could get a blood adoption set up for Harry through you and Dorea. It is feasible.”

Melania asked, “Then what?”

Arcturus gave a dark chuckle, “Hogwarts just lost its DADA professor, and Harry here is more than qualified for the position. I do believe that the answer is obvious: we go speak with Albus Dumbledore.”

 **A/N: And it’s over! This was undoubtedly a longer chapter than I was expecting. I hope that you all enjoy it. I have a Discord now for my stories! The invite code is https : // discord . gg / BR67c7K4BR (just remove any spaces; or alternatively, copy the last section and paste it into the invite section of Discord. Please leave a review, whether you loved or hated it. I will see you guys in the next installment of** **_A Black Opportunity_ ** **.**


	3. A Meeting in Hallowed Halls

**A/N: Welcome to Chapter 3! Many thanks to Meneldur and Nauze! I do not own** **_Harry Potter_ ** **. Please read and review!**

**Chapter 3: A Meeting in Hallowed Halls**

* * *

**Gaunt Shack, August 1, 1971**

The man who was known to the world as Lord Voldemort was currently feeling uneasy. This sensation did not sit well with him. He was not used to this sensation. The day prior, the wards put in place at his grandfather’s home went off, sending him an alert. He had been in Albania at the time, working on recruiting more vampires to his cause. He had only gotten back this morning and what he had found was unsettling. There were no signs of disturbance in the house. Were it not for the wards having gone off, Voldemort would likely never have assumed that something was amiss. 

He carefully made his way through the house. There seemed to be nothing wrong, and it was putting his senses on high alert. He made his way to the area on the floor where one of his greatest secrets lay. Moving his wand about, he removed the wards, one by one. When this was completed, he lifted the floorboard above his hiding space and looked inside to peruse its store.

The setting for the ring that had belonged to his grandfather was still there. However, the stone that had sat upon it was missing. He knew about the Resurrection Stone set in the ring, yet he had never used it. Why would he use something for which he had no need? He saw now that he should have played closer attention to events in the wizarding world. Someone had taken the stone without causing harm to themselves. The withering curse was still inlaid into the ring’s setting, so whoever it was had known about the defenses. 

There was a new player on this chessboard. One that did not adhere to the rules that had been set so far. It mattered not. Lord Voldemort would find this being who deemed themselves worthy of tangling with a Dark Lord, and he would show them the error of their ways.

* * *

The goblins had not been too impressed with their story, but when Charlus offered to cover the full costs of the adoption as well as provide a generous “helping fee”, the goblins had been most acquiescing. That was how Harry found himself sitting in front of a basin with Dorea and Charlus seated on either side of him. The rest of the family watched through a viewing glass, and Harry could see the amount of wonder shining in James’s eyes at the magic happening in front of him. Harry swore to himself that he would see his parents live through this war and have children of their own. 

James Potter looked every bit the pureblood prince that Sirius had said he was. James stood proud, and Harry knew that the boy was tall for his age. He was not wearing glasses just yet, but Harry figured that would come later on down the line. His hazel eyes were filled with a mischievousness that Harry had only seen in Sirius and Remus.

A goblin began chanting in Gobbledegook, while another goblin took a dagger and cut Harry’s palm. He allowed the blood to drip into the basin before repeating the process with Dorea and Charlus. Harry had winced at the pain, but neither Charlus nor Dorea had allowed a single muscle on their face to twitch in response to their injuries. They simply braved through it, stone-faced. Harry was once again in awe of his great-uncle and great-aunt, his soon-to-be parents. They just seemed to be made of sterner stuff than anyone besides possibly Luna was made of, and he admired them for it.

Harry watched as their blood mixed while the other goblins in the room chanted. The basin began to glow silver before transitioning to a shade of light gold. The chanting came to a stop, and the goblin that had started the chanting, in the beginning, spoke in English, “The ritual is complete. Magic now recognizes Henry James Potter as the son and heir of Charlus Potter and Dorea née Black.”

Harry stood, feeling a bit of relief now that the ritual was over. While he was not too worried about the ritual going through, he still always felt a bit antsy about entering the bank after the heist that he, Hermione, and Ron had pulled off just before the Battle of Hogwarts. He would be glad to be out of this place. 

Harry stood and followed Charlus and the goblins back to the account manager’s office. The manager for the Potter accounts was an old goblin named Ulknott. He passed over some papers for Charlus to sign, explaining, “These will give Henry access to the Potter family vaults as well as establish a new vault for Mr. Potter’s personal use. At standard rates, of course. You will both need to sign the documents.”

Charlus signed the forms before offering them to Harry to look over and sign. He gave them a cursory glance, making sure they would not be robbing him of anything. It would not do for him to be caught unawares. After deciding that they were not going to rob him blind, Harry signed the documents and handed them back to Ulknott. 

Ulknott dismissed them relatively quickly after handing Harry a vault key and a leather coin pouch tied to the vault itself. Harry and Charlus joined up with the rest of the family, where Fleamont and Euphemia decided it was time for them to part ways. Fleamont pulled Harry to the side before they left, out of earshot of the rest of the family.

“Magically adopted or not, you are still my grandson. If you ever need a place to lay your head or just find a good meal, come see us at Godric’s Hollow,” he told Harry. Harry smiled softly; his godfather had been entirely right about his grandparents. 

Fleamont hugged Harry and then left with Euphemia and James in tow. Harry sent a final wave to his father as they went. He was glad when James responded with a mischievous grin and a wave. Harry walked back to where Arcturus and Charlus were standing with their wives. 

Arcturus turned to Harry as he approached, “I have managed to set up a meeting with the Headmaster. He will be expecting us in four hours,” Arcturus looked him over, “Dorea and Melania will have to help get you dressed properly for the meeting. Appearances are everything, you know.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, dipping his head in gratitude. He turned to Dorea and Melania, “I will need to stop by Ollivander’s before we head back to the manor, though. I can not keep brandishing the Elder Wand.” 

Charlus laughed, and Harry let Dorea and Melania lead him away from the group. They walked over to Ollivander’s shop. It looked to Harry precisely as it had when he was a boy, and he was hit with a feeling of nostalgia, remembering what it had been like coming here for the first time with Hagrid. 

Entering the shop, Harry immediately noticed that it was much cooler than it was on the outside, where the hot London sun beat down on the rest of the Alley. Unlike last time, Garrick was at the front of the shop, loading boxes along the wall on a ladder. The man stopped, however, when he saw the trio of visitors enter his shop.

“Melania Black, cherry, unicorn hair, nine inches. Dorea Potter, aspen, dragon heartstring, ten inches,” he turned his gaze from the two women to Harry, “I have never sold you a wand before.”

Harry dipped his head, “You have not. However, I lost my wand a while ago after defeating a dark wizard. I require a new wand to replace it, and you are the best wandmaker in Europe. Since I was moving to Britain permanently, I chose to wait until I had a chance to meet you.”

Garrick looked him over, “Then you have come to the right place, Mr...?”

“Potter. Henry Potter, but you may call me Harry,” answered Harry. Garrick seemed as eccentric as he recalled.

“The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter, and it is right that you finally get a wand from my shop, as has been done by your family for generations.” 

Garrick came down with an assortment, “Now, tell me, what was your last wand made of?”

“Holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches,” Harry responded.

“Hmm, let us see then. Let us try a wand as such. I created a wand just like that once,” Garrick strode off to the back of his shop. He returned rather quickly, a case in his hand. He pulled the wand out of its case and passed the familiar wand to Harry.

Harry’s lungs seemed to close in on themselves as he beheld his former wand. It looked exactly as Harry remembered, to every exquisite detail. Shakily he raised his hand and grabbed hold of the wand. Its handle felt familiar to Harry, and he gave it a casual wave. The result was rather unexpected. 

Nothing happened—no warmth in his hand. There was simply no response. Harry handed the wand back to its maker, smiling ruefully as Garrick took the wand. The fabled wandmaker had a puzzled look on his face as he looked at the wand. 

Melania’s eyes gleamed as she shared a wicked look with Dorea, “Looks like your dear nephew has trouble getting focused. That is too common a problem in young men these days.”

Dorea sniffed, though there was a glimmer of humor in her eyes, “I’m certain he takes after the Potter men.”

“Oh, have you sampled more than one, Dorea?” asked Melania innocently. 

Dorea glared at her in return, “Of course not, you wench. How Arcturus puts up with you is beyond me.”

Melania nodded sagely, “He recognizes who wears the britches. That’s how.”

Garrick raised his eyebrow at the two ladies, and they both had the wherewithal to look slightly abashed, though Melania still had a sparkle in her eyes. Garrick turned from them and looked over at Harry, a puzzled expression on his face, “The core seems appropriate, maybe a different wood then.”

Harry shrugged, “If it makes you feel better, it took some time for my first wand to choose me.”

Garrick nodded to himself, “I can see why. Let us try a few more then.”

He went and pulled several wands down from the shelves. Each seemed to be carefully chosen. He laid them before Harry and had him try each one. None of them seemed to work. Garrick looked between Harry and the wands on the desk, “There is one more wand in my stores that I would like you to try.”

Garrick once more went to the back of the shop. This time he spent a few minutes rummaging through the office. Harry heard Melania whisper to Dorea, “What if we cannot get him a wand?”

Dorea’s eyebrow rose, “Have faith in Mr. Ollivander. He has never failed yet.”

Garrick emerged from the shop’s back, looking as if he had been covered in a layer of dust. He smiled apologetically, “A thousand pardons. This wand is over three centuries old, and it has yet to find a match. It was the first wand crafted by my grandfather. We had long given up hope that it might be matched.”

He opened the case of the wand and held it out to Harry, “It is an English oak wood wand. It has a phoenix feather core and is twelve inches long.”

It was a dark wand, but Harry was mesmerized by it. He grasped the handle and felt the heat of his magic, responding to the wand. He pointed his wand out and whispered, “ _ Expecto Patronum _ .”

A brilliant light emerged from the wand, and before them, Prongs lept out, bounding around the room. All four wizards watched in awe as Prongs made his way through the room before eventually disappearing. Garrick looked at Harry as if he had never seen him before, “You are destined for great things, Mr. Potter. English oak wands are meant for those of great strength, courage, and fidelity. Keep being yourself, Mr. Potter, and that wand shall never fail you.”

“Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Ollivander,” Harry responded earnestly, still grasping his new wand, “How many galleons will that be?”

“That will be 140 galleons, please,” Garrick replied.

Harry took the pouch for coins he had taken out of the bank out, and he counted out stacks of ten coins to give the wizard. Once that was completed, Harry and the ladies thanked Garrick again and left the shop. Once they were out on the street, Dorea grabbed Harry, and they disapparated from Diagon Alley. 

They appeared in front of Potter Manor, Melania apparating just a few moments later. Melania grabbed hold of Harry’s arm as they headed inside, and Harry turned his head to see what the Black matriarch wanted.

She smiled sweetly, “You will have to forgive my husband. He has always been a Slytherin at heart. There are few that he trusts wholeheartedly. He is too prideful for his own good at times, so I would not expect an apology from him anytime soon. I was quite upset with him last night when I realized what he had done.”

Harry responded rather, woodenly, “It’s fine.”

Melania shook her head, “But it wasn’t. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Your response last night, while slightly amusing, is not one that was appropriate.”

They entered the house, following behind Dorea, as Harry snorted, “And what would have been a proper response?”

Melania’s face was as if made as stone when she responded, “Challenging him to a duel.”

Harry nearly let out a guffaw before he realized that she was serious, “Me, duel the Head of the House of Black? Are you mad?”

This time Melania smirked a bit and shook her head, “Not mad. It would have been the appropriate response to  _ anyone _ dosing you with veritaserum without your consent. Besides, you have defeated what you say was the worst Dark Lord to ever walk on our shores. Dueling Arcturus would have practically been a walk in the park.”

Harry gave a quiet laugh as they went up the stairs to his room, “There are three types of wizards I would never want to duel. The first is Dark Lords as a general rule. The second is anyone like Albus Dumbledore. I have seen the man fight, and he can be terrifying. The third is any wizard or witch born to the Black family. Your husband’s family has produced some of the most terrifying wizards ever to walk the Earth.”

Melania laughed loudly, “You do have some brains then. Are you sure that you were a Gryffindor at Hogwarts?”

Harry colored a bit, and he admitted, “The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin.”

This admission drew a laugh out of Dorea, “My husband will get a kick out of that. Now, as I understand it, you picked up a full wardrobe at Madam Malkin’s yesterday?”

Harry nodded, and she continued, “Marvelous, pull everything out and lay it out on the bed. Melania and I shall go through everything and arrange a  _ functioning _ wardrobe worthy of a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Harry walked over to his closet, and using his wand, brought the clothes out and arranged them neatly on the bed for Dorea and Melania to analyze. He stuffed his hands back into his robes while the two women worked. When dating Ginny, he had learned that it was best not to get into a woman’s way while she was busy doing something. She might be liable to hex you for messing something up, even if it was inadvertent. 

He lost himself in his little world, letting his mind wander to the meeting he would have today with Professor Dumbledore. On the one hand, Professor Dumbledore had been a trusted friend and guide. On the other, he had led Harry to sacrifice himself with no guarantee of Harry’s survival. Harry knew, though, that he would have done it all over again if required.  _ Merlin, I am such a Gryffindor _ . 

Melania looked over at the clock and passed him a set of underwear and a towel, “Go and take another shower while we prepare the clothing.”

Harry nodded and entered the bathroom. He quickly undressed and entered the shower. He was pleased that the water was already warm, noting the runes along the wall that allowed it to be so. He washed himself about as quickly as he could and then turned off the water. He exited the shower and patted himself dry before putting on the briefs that Melania had given to him. He heard a knock at the door, and he went and opened it slightly.

Dorea pushed her hand through the small opening and passed him a black suit and a beige dress shirt, along with a black tie and a beige handkerchief. She passed them to him before commanding, “Put these on, then come and grab the black robe we have for you.”

Harry closed the bathroom door and quickly changed. He paused on his way out of the door to look at himself in the mirror. He could not help it when a smile came upon his face, his reflection reminded him of Professor Lupin, and his heart ached for times long forgotten. He shook his head clear and exited the bathroom.

Dorea looked at him with a pensive glance, “Who were you thinking of in there?”

Harry looked over at a window, “The best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I ever had. He taught me the Patronus Charm.”

Melani looked at him sharply, “The werewolf, correct?”

Harry nodded, “I will need to learn the animagus transformation at some point. He will not attack Animagi on the full moon.”

Melania shook her head, “I question the Headmaster’s wisdom in allowing a werewolf to attend Hogwarts. But alas, that is why he is the Headmaster, and I am not a Headmistress.”

Harry smiled at her, “Remus is a good kid, and he will be an even better man. If I get this position, I look forward to teaching him and my mother. From what my own professors told me, they were absolutely brilliant.”

Dorea smiled and brought over the black robe that she and Melania had prepared, “Let’s put this on and see how you look.”

Harry slipped on the robe and looked in the mirror. He turned his head when he heard the door open and saw Lucille walk in. She gave him a look over and nodded, “Perfect. We need to do something about that Potter hair, though.”

Melania looked over at Dorea, “How does Charlus deal with his hair?”

Dorea put her hand to her chin, “Usually some Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion and a band to keep it tied back.” She gestured at Harry’s head, “His hair is too short to do a full ponytail, but if we apply some potion, we could leave it to lie naturally.” 

Lucille nodded, “That would do fine. The menfolk are back and waiting for the three of you. Harry, you do look dashing, much like your great-grandfather if I do say so.”

Lucille took her leave, and Dorea grabbed a potion bottle from the counter. She applied a few drops to Harry’s head and began rubbing it into the hair. After a few moments, she spoke to Melania, “Pass me the brush, please.”

Harry felt rather than saw as Dorea ran a brush through his hair. Harry had always had trouble taming his hair, but it felt nice to have someone help him with it for once. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of someone else putting up with his hair for once. When Dorea put the brush down, Harry opened them and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was surprised that his hair looked slicked back. 

His eyes met Dorea’s, and she gave a small laugh, “I have been putting up with Charlus’s hair for a long time. I have some experience with doing this, you know.”

Melania tittered, “Yes, yes. Harry is ready now. We need to be going. That meeting begins in fifteen minutes.”

The three of them left the room and made their way downstairs, where Arcturus and Charlus were waiting for them in the sitting room. Lucille was drinking tea once more. She placed her cup down when Harry returned and spoke directly to him, “When you return from Hogwarts, we will have some company. I have invited the Heads of the McKinnon, Weasley, and Longbottom families along with their wives for dinner. We will reveal the existence of an up-and-coming Dark Lord. In time, we will begin making moves within the Wizengamot and, through our business partners, curtail this man’s influence. I will see you all when you return.”

Melania took her leave, saying that some matters needed to be tended to at Grimmauld Place. Dorea offered to come with her, expressing a wish to see Regulus and Sirius. 

Charlus grabbed some Floo powder and threw it in, calling out, “Hogwarts, Headmaster’s office!” as he walked into the green flames. After Charlus disappeared into the fire, Arcturus followed suit. Harry was the last, and he gave Lucille a quick kiss on the cheek before following the others to Hogwarts.

* * *

As always, Harry nearly landed on his rear as he exited the Floo, barely managing to stumble out properly. When he was able to stop his momentum, he saw both Charlus and Arcturus gathered at Professor Dumbledore’s desk. Sitting behind the desk was the man himself. His hair was not quite silver yet, but grey streaks showed the growing signs of age. As he did in Harry’s time at Hogwarts, the Headmaster wore colorful robes. Today, he had donned a beige robe with gold trimmings. 

Harry took a second to take in the Headmaster’s office. It seemed much the same as it had been when he had attended Hogwarts. There were undoubtedly fewer trinkets, though considering there were still twenty years left for the man to continue collecting items, Harry supposed it made some sense.

“-busy today, we will need to make this meeting as short as possible,” the Headmaster was speaking. He stopped when he saw Harry, looking back at Charlus quickly, “Who is this?”

Charlus smiled, “This is my nephew, Harry. He was Richard’s boy, but Dorea and I adopted him after Richard and Marietta died.”

Albus narrowed his eyes, “May I ask where he,” he paused before turning his eyes to Harry, “my apologies, I am pleased to meet you. May I ask where you received your education? Since you did not attend Hogwarts?”

Harry smiled, “It is an honor to meet you as well. I had the best private tutors money could buy.”

It was not technically a lie, the Ministry’s auror educators were among the best in their fields, and they had taught Harry very well. Albus seemed to try and look through him, but seemed not to find whatever it was that he was looking for. 

“What brings you to my school, then?” Albus asked.

Arcturus was the one who chose to answer the Headmaster’s question, “We heard you needed a new DADA professor after the untimely passings of Professors Strickland and Nameir. We believe we could assist you with finding a new professor before the Ministry steps in and sets up their own professor here.”

“And what makes you believe that Harry here is qualified to teach this subject?” countered Albus.

“Well, for one, I made an O on my DADA N.E.W.T.S., and I also am well-versed in both offensive and defensive magic,” Harry’s response drew Albus’s eyes. 

Albus smiled condescendingly at Harry, “While I am sure that your skills are up to par, I am afraid I will have to deny this application, short as it may have been. Now I am a very busy man, and I must ask you to leave.”

His voice was firm, and both Arcturus and Charlus stood to leave, but Harry remained sitting, his eyes narrowed on the Headmaster, “There is a jinx on the office of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship here. Were you aware of this?”

Albus looked stumped, “There have been rumors certainly. And you are certain of this?”

Harry smiled, “Not only am I certain of it, but I can also remove the jinx. One Tom Marvolo Riddle placed it in the year 1965. That is six professors in as many years. How long before you run out of candidates that are willing to possibly risk their lives? Then the Ministry will begin choosing your professors, trying to undermine your position.”

“I am sure the minister would not try such a thing,” Albus offered weakly.

Charlus responded, amused, “Eugenia Jenkins may be your ally at the moment, but she will not be the Minister for life. Eventually, whether it is this Minister or the next, you will have an administration unfriendly to you and this school. Do you really want there to be a precedent in place that allows them to choose your professors?” 

Harry continued where Charlus left off, “I have seen the ineptitude of some of the people that the Ministry would allow to teach at your school. Help me to help yourself and your students. Professor, better me than a flunkie that may or may not be reporting to an up-and-coming Dark Lord.”

Albus looked annoyed with the three of them, and if the moment were not so serious, Harry might have felt a bit amused. Finally, Albus focused his stare on Harry, “If you can remove the jinx on the position, and I shall want to see this event in person, then we will begin on a one year trial basis. Should you not remove this jinx, I do not need to tell you what the consequences would be for yourself, Mr. Potter.”

His voice was like ice, and Harry refrained from flinching back as was his instinct. He nodded his head, “We will need to go to the office of the DADA professor. That is where Riddle placed the jinx.”

Albus stood and led the way to the door, “Very well. May I ask how and what you know about Tom Riddle?”

Harry and the others followed him, with Harry responding, “He is a half-blood descendant of the House of Gaunt. He has chosen to go by the anagram Lord Voldemort. He is a dark wizard, more powerful than Gellert Grindelwald. To the best of my knowledge, the only wizard he fears is you. As for how I know these things, well, he told me most of them himself.”

Albus turned to him, looking intrigued, “You’ve met him then?” 

Harry nodded, “A few times too many if you ask me.”

“I see,” Albus said, nodding to himself and continuing to lead them to the office. Albus looked over at Charlus, “I assume that you will gather your allies?”

Charlus nodded, “What Voldemort is doing is treason. He plans on waging war against the Ministry. While our government is certainly corrupt, there are better ways of dealing with it. Besides, his ideology is not one that needs pervading anyway,” he glanced at Arcturus, “no offense.”

Arcturus’s eyebrow rose, “None taken.”

Charlus continued, “But yes, there will be a convening of the alliance tonight.”

Albus looked deep in thought as they walked, “Maybe, then, it is time for me to begin gathering my sources. This certainly seems much worse than I feared.”

“Oh, professor, you have no idea,” muttered Harry under his breath. 

Finally, they reached a corridor that Harry recognized. It was the hall where Remus Lupin and Barty Crouch Jr., posing as Alastor Moody, had taught their classes. Arcturus pulled him behind the rest of the group and whispered into his ear, “Are you certain you want to do this, Harry? We could find another way.”

Harry pulled away from the man, “I am certain. I have done it before, and I can do it again.”

As Albus led the way into the Defense professor’s office, Harry brandished his new wand. He could feel it thrum in his hand as if it anticipated being used. Albus turned and looked expectantly at Harry, “Well, do your, what do the youth call it these days? Your thing, I believe, is the appropriate slang.”

Harry arched his eyebrow but strode forward, “Tom Riddle used several low-powered dark charms, specifically those geared towards bad luck, and placed them on various objects in this room. Along with well-placed and strong masking charms that I expect he created himself, they made for formidable dark objects. Together they form a powerful jinx on the office.”

He began waving his wand, silently summoning various objects to the desk before him, “After constant slow exposure over the course of a school year, well,” he shrugged here, “there is only so much a Defense professor can do when they are not aware of or familiar with the magic in the world around them.”

Harry looked at the items placed before him on the desk: a placard, a box of quills, a case for parchment, a file box, and the desk itself. He gestured to the items, “Any random person that came in here might stub their toe or have some other happenstance that could be explained away by the randomness of the world that we live in. But a defense professor, someone usually well defended against the darkest of arts? Constant exposure with little payoff would always mean that by the end of the year, the professor would be doomed.”

He stepped back and allowed Albus to cast scanning charms over the objects, and Harry watched, amused, as the man’s eyebrows rose at what his magic was telling him. Harry came forward and gathered his magic within himself, “Please step back professor,” when Albus took a few steps back, Harry pointed his wand at the desk and incanted, “ _ Maledictus ignis! _ ”

A flaming basilisk emerged from his wand and consumed the desk and the items upon it. Albus moved to stop Harry, but both Arcturus and Charlus held the man back. Harry watched as the dark items were removed from existence. Once he was satisfied, he dispelled the flames with a flick of his wand, leaving only a scorched mark upon the floor. He turned and saw the three other men looking at him in surprise. Harry shrugged sheepishly, “Using fiendfyre is less energy consuming than trying to dispel each item of their taint with  _ finite _ .”

“That is an impressive, if dangerous, knowledge of the Dark Arts, Harry,” stated Albus calmly, though his eyes were much more attentive than before.

Harry gave a wan smile, “As a wise old man once told me, it is a better defense to know how your opponents think offensively. My tutor in Defense taught me both advanced branches of defensive and offensive magic.”

Albus nodded, acquiescing to his explanation, “May I ask what happened to your tutor?”

Harry responded, feeling slightly choked up, as he recalled his Albus’s death, “He died saving me from a dark wizard’s followers. I avenged him a year later.”

“My sympathies for your loss,” Albus acknowledged, “Is that why you returned to Britain?”

“I’ve returned to Britain to create a life for myself,” Harry’s answer was the truth. Removing an up-and-coming Dark Lord was just a step on that path. Albus nodded, his eyes on the scorch marks on the floors, “Tell me, Harry, a bit about what your teaching style would be.”

“Well, I suppose most of the in-class work would be a practical application of theory. Practicing spells is, after all, the best way to master a spell.” Harry responded. 

Albus nodded, “We will need to get you some new office materials,” he offered Harry his hand, “but I suppose I should be the first to welcome you properly to Hogwarts, Professor Potter. I will expect you at Hogwarts’s gates by noon tomorrow. We can get you suited in your rooms and introduce you to the rest of the staff.”

“Thank you, Headmaster, you will not regret this choice,” Harry grinned as he shook his hand. 

“For your own good, make sure that I do not,” Albus warned, though there was a small trace of a pleasant smile on his face.

Albus led them back to his office after their stint in Harry’s new office. Harry gave a farewell to Fawkes, who was looking brilliant as ever. Arcturus and Charlus were quick to take their leave, and Harry stood at the fireplace. He turned back and looked at Albus Dumbledore as his emotions roiled under the surface. There was so much to unpack from their previous relationship, and Harry suddenly felt unsure. 

Albus looked at him questioningly, and Harry offered the man a weak smile, “It really was an honor to meet you,”  _ again _ , finished Harry in his mind. Albus dipped his head with a smile of his own, “The honor was mine. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Have a good night, professor.”

“You as well, Headmaster,” and with that, Harry went back to Potter Manor.

* * *

Potter Manor was busy when Harry stepped through the flames. Lucille and Dorea were busy putting together the evening meal. There was another woman, and she looked a bit like Dorea, who was tittering around them in the kitchen. Charlus took the time to introduce Harry to Neville’s great-grandfather, Harfang Longbottom. Based on Harry’s recollection of the Black family tree, the woman in the other room would have to be Callidora Longbottom nėe Black.

Harry made an excuse and went up to his room. He locked the door and went over to where he had placed the items that had come with him through the Veil. They were in a small box on his dresser. He opened the box and removed the Marauder’s map. Now that he would be at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future, the map would come in handy to prevent issues. He conjured a pouch and placed the folded piece of parchment within it before attaching the small bag to a belt loop. 

After this, he moved over to the safe. While he could not dispossess himself of the Hallows, he could store them here. Now that he had his own wand to use, he did not need to carry the powerful Elder Wand on his personage. He opened the safe where he kept the Resurrection Stone and placed the wand within its confines. Then he resealed the vault. He would need to go shopping in the morning for a new trunk and a broom. 

He returned downstairs to find that two more couples had joined them. He could recognize the red Weasley hair anywhere. Standing with a beautiful woman that looked like Callidora’s twin was Septimus Weasley. He had red hair that was beginning to recede with his age.

The third married couple that joined them that evening were unknown to him. They both had brown hair. The man had dark brown eyes and light, almost pale skin. The woman had blue eyes and looked like she had seen her fair share of days in the sun. Charlus called him over, “Harry, come meet the Weasleys and the McKinnons.”

Harry was introduced to Septimus and Cedrella Weasley first, “The Weasleys have been allies for centuries. Unfortunately, Septimus and his sons are the last of their line. All of his elder brothers died in the Grindelwald War. Cedrella is a member of the Black family, like Dorea. She is also Callidora’s sister.”

After exchanging some pleasantries with the couple, Harry was introduced to the McKinnons, “This is Warren and Grace McKinnon. Their family is nearly as old as ours, and they have been close associates of ours for well over six centuries. They’re talented potioneers, much like your uncle, Fleamont. They own a ranch over on the other side of Stinchcombe.”

Warren smiled as he took Harry’s hand in his, “So, you’re Richard’s boy, you look like him, and even more so like your grandfather. Charlus tells me that you will be the Defense professor at Hogwarts this year?”

The McKinnons were such  _ warm _ people, and Harry felt naturally drawn to them. Before he knew it, he was joining them in their laughter and their warmth. He responded to their questions eagerly. He continued answering questions when they finally sat for their meal. While Harry did not reveal anything about his origins, he was glad that all of them, including the Weasleys and the Longbottoms, seemed to accept him as one of their own, if only for the evening.

From the opposite side of the table, Lucille watched with a sad smile as Harry seemed to melt in age. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like a teenager who was eager to learn from all of the guests’ experience, and all of the seated adults were eager to converse with him in return. Lucille looked at the portrait of her husband on the wall and cursed whatever deity had decided that Harry was unable to live a normal life.

* * *

**A/N: Not as long as the last chapter, but certainly one that felt less like a filler chapter. At least to me, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have a Discord now for my stories! The invite code is https : // discord . gg / BR67c7K4BR (just remove any spaces; or alternatively, copy the last section and paste it into the invite section of Discord. Please leave a review, whether you loved or hated it. I will see you guys in the next installment of** **_A Black Opportunity_ ** **.**


	4. To Kill a Queen

**A/N: Welcome to Chapter 4! Many thanks to Meneldur and Nauze! JKR owns** **_Harry Potter_ ** **.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: To Kill a Queen**

The house was in a quiet state when Harry came down for breakfast the next morning. Mipey must have known he was coming down because Harry could already smell food cooking in the kitchen. That, or someone had already made it downstairs before him. The scent of sizzling bacon and fried tomatoes hit his nose as he entered the dining room. He was not too surprised to see Charlus, _my father_ , sitting there, reading a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. He gave a wave as he took a seat next to his Head of House.

“Good morning, Uncle Charlus,” Harry greeted. He pulled over a cup, and Mipey appeared to pour some black tea for him, “Thank you, Mipey.”

Mipey nodded with a smile and popped back to the kitchen. Charlus put down the paper and turned to his nephew, “Good morning, Harry. Did you sleep well?”

Harry nodded, taking a sip of his tea before answering, “I did. What is Mipey cooking? It smells delicious.”

Charlus smiled fondly as he looked over at the kitchen entrance, “Mipey has always been a wonderful cook. She’s making a full English breakfast,” he shot Harry a grin, “black pudding included.”

Harry grinned and looked at the empty spots at the table, “Are Aunt Dorea and Grandmother not going to be joining us?”

Charlus laughed lightly, “I am afraid it will be a while before either of them rises for the day.”

Harry nodded to the paper, “Anything worth reading?”

Charlus grimaced, “Not particularly. It is raining in London, however. I trust that you know the Umbrella charm?”

“Yes, it’s one of the neatest charms I’ve ever learned,” answered Harry with a smile.

“Oh, really, why is that so?” asked Charlus, a gleam in his eyes.

Harry smiled, talking about magic, in all of its forms, brought him great joy. He looked thoughtful for a moment before answering Charlus, “Well, I don’t know how it is for everyone else, but when I use the charm, I don’t need to worry about maintaining it. The charm holds, even if I am doing something else. It will stay until I dispel it to cast another spell, or it stops raining.”

“How would that change from other charms?” probed Charlus.

“Well, I suppose the other charm that would come close is the Shield charm. They both stay under their own power. The Umbrella charm is a maintenance spell. Shield spells, on the other hand, are classified as defensive magic.”

Charlus’s eyes gleamed madly, “And therein lies the trick. Both charms, from different fields of magic, have one single thing in common. They are designed to protect you. While the scale of the defense is incomparable, they do essentially the same thing. This means that they will hold until your strength falters or you purposefully dispel it. It does not require active maintenance under normal circumstances.”

Harry looked at his uncle, a bit of awe in his face, “How did you learn that?”

Charlus smiled as Mipey came back with their breakfasts, “I have masteries in Charms and Potions.”

Mipey set the food on the table and served the two men. Harry dug in heartily. As Charlus had noted, Mipey was an excellent cook, and Harry could tell that the house-elf took pride in cooking well for her family. He began eating breakfast and thinking about his upcoming day. He had to run over to Diagon Alley, and then he would be going to Hogwarts to start getting settled in. 

“Are you looking forward to your first day?” Charlus’s question interrupted his thoughts, and Harry turned to his uncle, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Well, I am. But I am also a bit nervous. I will be putting together lesson plans for a few weeks, I imagine,” Harry paused, “Meeting the staff again will be neat. I’m curious about who is different from when I was there.”

“Well, who was there when you were last there?” asked Charlus, looking curious.

Harry looked down at his plate, thinking hard, “Professor McGonnagal was the Head of Gryffindor House, and she taught Transfiguration. Professor Slughorn was the Potions master, Head of Slytherin House as well. There was a new DADA professor. Filius Flitwick was teaching Charms and was Head of Ravenclaw House. Professor Sprout was the Head of Hufflepuff House and taught Herbology. I know that there will probably be different professors for Astronomy and Arithmancy. The professors in my time were too young to be a professor now.”

Charlus nodded along and checked the clock on the wall and looked at Harry’s empty plate, “Well, you’d best be going if you’d like to be at Hogwarts by noon.” 

Harry smiled and stood from his chair, causing his uncle to do the same, “I shall return this evening to pack up all of my things.”

He walked over to the Floo, Charlus following behind. Before he activated the Floo, Harry turned to the older man, “Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me these past few days. I know it must have been difficult for all of you.”

Charlus gave Harry a wry grin, and his heart filled with a bittersweet feeling, “What we have done is nothing compared to what you’ve lived through,” Charlus gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly, “Never doubt for a moment that we would have all been proud to watch you grow into the man you’ve become Harry. The horrors that you lived through allowed you to save your people. You have honored your family’s name. Never let anyone tell you anything different.”

Harry’s lungs stopped, and tears blurred his sight. Charlus pulled Harry into his arms, and Harry let out a choked sob as he buried his face into his uncle’s shoulder. He tried getting his Occlumency shields in place, but his uncle’s arms felt so _warm_. Harry felt like a child once more, and he cursed the universe that it was at the age of twenty-three that he finally felt like a son. Charlus held him for a few more moments while Harry forced himself to pull together.

* * *

After Harry left and did his shopping, he apparated to Hogsmeade. He made sure that all of his shopping items were in a shrunken trunk sitting within his pocket. The best way to get to the castle was the Floo in Aberforth’s inn, the Hog’s Head Inn. He walked into the inn and made his way to the counter, where Aberforth was cleaning some plates behind the counter. The inn was as dark and dusty as it’d been when Harry attended Hogwarts. There were not many patrons in the inn, though. Harry figured it must have been a slow season. 

“You’re Aberforth, correct?” asked Harry.

The tall man turned to look at Harry, a glint in his eye, “You’re the new professor. Albus told me that you’d be coming. It’ll be two sickles to use the Floo.”

Harry pulled out two sickles and laid them on the counter, “Thank you very much, Aberforth.” 

He walked over to the fireplace and threw in a scoop of Floo powder. He called out, “Hogwarts, Headmaster’s office!”

He stepped through the Floo and was quite happy to see that he had made it to the proper location. The Headmaster and Fawkes seemed to have been waiting for him, as Dumbledore offered him a small smile, and Fawkes let out a trilling note. Harry dusted himself off and grinned at the beautiful phoenix before turning to his former Headmaster. 

“Good afternoon, Professor,” greeted Harry. 

Albus inclined his head, “Good afternoon to you as well. My staff is waiting in the Great Hall. I thought we might meet with them first. Afterward, I will give you a tour of the castle and then show you to your new quarters.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” answered Harry. Albus took the lead, and they left the office. Fawkes stayed behind, with Harry sending the bird a wave as they went. 

The walk to the Great Hall was a quiet one, and Harry took in the sights eagerly. It had been several years since he had seen Hogwarts, and Harry was in some ways glad to be back. It had always felt like a home to him. Much more so than the Dursley residence had ever been. He admired the suits of armor that now stood, gleaming, much like they had before the Battle of Hogwarts had destroyed many of them. Harry noted several ghosts were flitting about but he did not immediately see any House ghosts. The year had not started yet, so Harry supposed they were probably occupying themselves with other things since there were no students to watch over.

The halls had not changed a bit, and Harry figured they had probably been this way since the early days of Hogwarts. Portraits whispered as they passed by, and Harry had to hold in a grin. It was nice to be back; it felt _right_. 

They entered the Great Hall, and Harry could see the professors assembled. He saw old Slughorn, with no hair on his head, even though he was over twenty years younger. Professor McGonagall sat next to Professor Sprout. Minerva looked much younger, and Harry had to remember that she was only in her late thirties. Professor Sprout did look younger, but not by much. Her hair was already grey but there was still a warm gleam in her eyes that Harry had recognized from his youth. Next, Harry spotted Professor Flitwick. The professor looked as old as he had when Harry was there. Though, with part-goblin ancestry, Harry had no clue just how long the professor _could_ live.

Harry looked over the other professors, but aside from Madame Pomfrey, Professor Hooch, and Mr. Filch, he did not see anyone that he immediately recognized. Albus brought him forth, “This is Henry Potter. With the untimely passings of Professors Strickland and Nameir, I have been forced to look to more unusual sources for a new DADA professor. Mr. Potter is highly recommended, and we have decided to begin with a trial run of one year. I expect all of you to treat him well.”

Albus beckoned him forward, “I’d like you to meet the four Heads of House,” the first to come forward was, unsurprisingly, Professor Slughorn. Albus smiled sentimentally at his old friend, “This is Horace Slughorn. He teaches potions and is the Head of Slytherin House.”

Horace offered his hand, and Harry shook it earnestly, “The Lord and Lady Black both speak highly of you, Professor. It is an honor to be working with you.”

Horace seemed slightly taken aback but he hid it under a jovial smile, “I wish you all the best of luck, young man. And please, call me Horace.”

Albus moved on, introducing Professor McGonagall, who had recently become Head of Gryffindor House after Professor Strickland’s demise, (he had taught divination for several years before taking up the Defense post). Argo Pyrites was introduced to him as the Head of Ravenclaw House for over a decade at this point and was also the Deputy Headmaster, while Pomona had been Head of Hufflepuff House since Albus had begun teaching at the school. 

Harry tried to take note of the other staff members. There was the new Divination professor that looked as nutty as Trelawney. Silvanus Kettleburn was teaching Care of Magical Creatures, which made sense since Harry knew that he had retired in 1993. There was still an Alchemy course that the Headmaster assisted with on occasion; that was the class that Professor Pyrites taught. 

After taking Harry through his staff, Albus took Harry to where the new professor’s quarters would be. It was a small two-room apartment. The entire apartment was painted in a green and black scheme. _Too Slytherin for me_ , thought Harry to himself. One of the rooms was his bedroom that came with its own closet and bathroom. Albus noted that the plumbing for the entire castle had been redone in the late 20s to allow for more modern equipment at Headmaster Dippet’s request. 

The second bedroom was currently used as a guest room, though the Headmaster indicated that it could be turned into a personal library or office if Harry so needed. The apartment included a small kitchenette and a sitting area around a fireplace.

Albus pointed to the fireplace, “You were keyed into the school wards when you arrived earlier today, so you can use the Floo as you wish,” he pointed to a door next to the fireplace, “If you follow me, I can show you to your office.”

Harry followed the man through the door into a bare office. Harry recognized it as the one that his professors had used but there were no furnishings. Albus looked down at Harry, “We removed Professor Strickland’s things after I had hired Professor Nameir but she never had a chance to move in. It is yours to decorate as you wish.”

“Thank you, professor. I should be all moved in by tomorrow,” Harry grinned up at the older man.

Albus nodded cordially and moved to the door that led to the rest of the castle. He turned back and let his gaze settle on Harry, “I will let you get settled in then. If you need anything, feel free to call Jetty, the house elf for this room,” his gaze became more focused, “I do not think I need to inform you of what would happen if you were caught doing anything untowards.”

It took a moment for it to click in his head, but when it did, Harry did his best to imitate a tomato. He dipped his head to Albus, “Of course not, sir. I shall endeavor to be professional at all times.”

Albus nodded, “Do that, and we will get along just fine.”

After the man left, Harry spent the rest of the day traveling between Hogwarts and Potter Manor, getting all of his things over to the castle. Once all of that was done, Harry started decorating his apartment. The first thing he did was change the color scheme to orange and red. He immediately felt a bit more at home. After that, he placed the two most dangerous of the Hallows within a vault that he placed in the deepest corner of his new trunk. He then pulled out of the pouch that contained the Marauder's map. He could use it to steer around the castle and watch for potential trouble with ease.

* * *

After taking the first week to settle in, Harry decided to take a gamble with his knowledge of future events. After studying the area around the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry approached the Headmaster with his conclusions. He had made sure to speak with Hagrid about the half-giant’s experience with Aragog and Tom Riddle. He also talked to Myrtle about her death. With those stories in his arsenal, Harry brought forth his case to the Headmaster.

“I am certain that this is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. I believe that the beast attacking students in Hagrid’s third year was a basilisk. Which, given that Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth, would make sense.” Harry concluded his spiel. 

At first, the Headmaster had not been too convinced but as Harry continued laying his case, Albus became paler and paler. Now Harry was seated across from the man, waiting to see how he would react.

“How do you recommend that we proceed, Harry?” asked Albus.

“I’d recommend that we contact the DMLE. They would have the best personnel required to take on such a dangerous creature. If you have spare phoenix tears, they’d be of use too. They’re the only known cure for basilisk venom.”

Albus stood from his desk and moved over to the fireplace. He threw in some Floo powder and called out, “Head Auror’s office, DMLE!”

A middle-aged man’s face appeared through the fire, and he scowled when he saw Dumbledore, “What do you want this time, Headmaster?”

“Thank you for your time Head Auror Black. I need you to come through for an emergency matter or at least allow myself and my DADA professor to come through to speak with you,” Albus’s urgent voice seemed to spur something in the Auror because he sighed and nodded his head, “Let me come through to you.”

The man stepped through the flames, and Harry took in the sight of him. He had dark hair like the majority of his family, and he had dark eyes. His mouth seemed to be continuously twisted in a sardonic grin. Harry had never met the man before, but even if Albus had not mentioned his name, Harry would have assumed the man to be of the Black family. Mr. Black immediately focused his eyes on Harry, and Albus moved in to make introductions.

“Head Auror, this is our newest DADA professor, Henry Potter, though he prefers to go by Harry,” Albus spoke as Harry took the older man’s hand in his own for a firm shake. The Headmaster continued, “Professor Potter, this is the Head Auror, Alphard Black.”

Harry had to hold in a smile. Alphard Black was the uncle that left his personal fortune to Sirius when he passed. He let go of the man’s hand, and Albus sat back down at his desk, conjuring a third chair for Alphard to sit on. Alphard took his seat and looked expectantly at Albus.

The Headmaster inclined his head to Harry, “Harry can tell you what he has discovered.”

Alphard looked at Harry, and Harry started the tale from the beginning of the incidents in the 40s. He laid the timeline down and ended with the reveal for the location. He was careful not to give up his prior knowledge of the future events that led to him knowing about the Chamber. But he was relieved that Alphard took it as a serious enough matter to call in a squad. 

“How will we get into the Chamber if it is warded with Parseltongue?” asked Alphard when Harry finished.

Harry grimaced, “I am a Parselmouth. Due to the negative connotations around the trait, my family has kept it secret. I am only telling you,” he nodded to Alphard, “because you’re a member of my family through the Blacks,” Alphard gave him a nod of appreciation. He turned to Albus, “and you because as my employer, I feel that I should be as honest about my capabilities as possible.”

Albus nodded his head in gratified acknowledgment. Harry turned back to Alphard, “If you get your aurors together, I can open the Chamber for you. I will also assist if you need me to,” he paused and looked speculatively at Albus, “If Hagrid had any roosters, now might be a good time to collect them. It’d be better to try and take out the basilisk without bloodshed if we could.”

* * *

As Harry entered the tunnel to the Chamber of Secrets, he had to keep his Occlumency shields in place as his mind filled with memories of the last time he had been here. The roars of the basilisk echoed in his mind. He was partially relieved that Fawkes had chosen of his own volition to join their expedition. He probably would have been in the middle of a panic attack without the trusted phoenix. 

Around him were a rather large squad of aurors. One Alastor Moody led them. The only other auror that Harry recognized was a current junior auror, John Dawlish. He looked like he was in his early twenties, which figured right with what Harry had known of the man in his original timeline. Harry had not liked him then, and did not like him much now either. He reminded Harry of an even stricter Percy Weasley, which was hard to imagine in and of itself. 

Alphard Black had returned to notify the Black and Potter lords and give word to the Minister and the Wizengamot. If the basilisk defeated them, there’d be a large contingency force ready to deal with the threat. Albus had even raised the possibility of an ICW taskforce if needed. Nobody wanted to deal with a Class XXXXX creature, but it was better to do it now with students away from school for the summer. 

The group of wizards stopped in front of the main entrance to the Chamber. Harry whispered out, “ _§Open§._ ” The doors slowly opened, and Harry watched as the face of Salazar Slytherin stared back at him. The large room was damp, and the heat of the summer did the room no favors. The group of them trudged forward. 

Alastor kept his eyes flitting around the room. They all moved in pace behind the man. Each auror was carrying a crate with a rooster sitting in it. They had Silencing charms to keep them quiet at the moment. They all came to a stop before Salazar’s statue, and Harry stepped forward. He drew his wand to be prepared and called out in Parseltongue, “ _§Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four§._ ”

They all watched as slowly, the mouth that hid the basilisk nest opened. They all grew tense for a few moments but it seemed that the great snake was still asleep. Albus had posited the idea that the serpent was kept asleep to preserve its long life until it was called forth to do its master’s bidding. It seemed that the Headmaster was correct, and Harry felt quite a bit of relief at the fact. 

Harry kept quiet for a moment to see if the snake was still asleep. When all he could hear were soft breaths, Harry allowed himself to relax some more. He opened the crate that he held and canceled the charm that he had placed on it. He heard, rather than saw, his teammates do the same behind him. When the charm was canceled, Harry shot a light Stinging jinx at the rooster, causing the bird to chirp in terror. When it calmed, the bird noticed its surroundings and let out a deep crow. The other roosters with them did the same. 

What came next chilled Harry to his bones. The basilisk let out a deep agonizing roar, and they could hear the scraping of scales on stone. Moody gave the command to find cover. The group began to move. Or rather, most of them did. Harry turned to see that Dawlish was frozen in horror as the beast emerged from the mouth of Slytherin’s statue. He moved to save the man, but he was too slow. 

The basilisk turned its gaze on Dawlish. The junior auror dropped dead to the floor, and the basilisk roared triumphantly before collapsing to the ground. Its breaths were much shallower now. Fawkes saw his chance and dived on the basilisk, his claws stretched out. The piercing cry of the basilisk shook the Chamber as Fawkes removed one of its eyes. 

The basilisk tried to snap at the phoenix that seemed to always just be out of its reach. But the serpent was too weak to keep up with the bird, and Fawkes quickly relieved the snake of his remaining good eye. The snake came crashing down to the ground, too feeble to do much besides hiss in pained fury.

Harry stepped forward, and when the basilisk opened its mouth once more, he cast his most potent Severing curse. He stepped back to avoid the blood and poison that spewed from its mouth as it finally choked to death on its own blood. Behind him, the auror team watched in grim determination. 

When the beast finally stopped spasming, the group turned to the body of their only casualty. Moody closed Dawlish’s eyes and summoned a levitating stretcher. He raised the dead auror’s body onto it and conjured a white shroud to cover the body. All of them bowed their heads as Moody led the stretcher from the Chamber. The aurors filed out behind their team captain, and Harry took the rear, with Fawkes trilling a sad song overhead.

* * *

The trip back to the hospital wing was silent, apart from the phoenix song that haunted the halls of Hogwarts. They moved through the castle as quickly as possible, and Harry was not too surprised to see a crowd waiting for them already. Both the Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster were there, along with Professor Slughorn, the Head Auror and Head of the DMLE. Lords Black, Potter, and Longbottom stood off to the side, but it was evident that they, too, were interested in the results of their expedition. 

Albus gave a soft gasp when he saw the stretcher but allowed them to pass by him into the wing so that Madame Pomfrey could give them a look over. She scanned them all for injuries and confirmed that Auror Dawlish was indeed deceased. Harry watched as the body was placed on a bed to be transferred to St. Mungo’s for body preparation. While he had never liked the man, he remembered that Albus had dubbed the man a “great auror” in Harry’s old timeline. His death would undoubtedly be a blow to the Department. 

He idly listened as Moody gave his report of what happened in the Chamber. He looked over at Harry darkly when he came on Harry’s use of the Severing Curse on the basilisk, “That looked like dark magic, Professor. Would you care to explain yourself?”

Harry shrugged, “It is a family spell. Only has a single counter-curse. I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t come back.”

Alphard stepped in, “Though you may not like it, Alastor, Professor Potter has a right to use family magic to defend himself and others. Whether we view the magic as dark or not.”

Barty Crouch Sr. did not look too happy about Alphard’s defense but kept his mouth shut. He turned to Albus, “Do you need us to dispose of the carcass?”

Albus shook his head, but it was Horace who answered, “Not at all; as a magical creature, the snake’s body can last for some time before beginning to deteriorate. I will have my N.E.W.T. level students assist me in rendering the body down for ingredients. Professor Potter can assist us when the time comes.”

Harry nodded his head when Barty turned to give him a questioning glance. Harry cleared his throat, and most of the room’s attention turned to him. Once he had the room’s attention, he began, his eyes focused on Crouch, “Director, during my research of the Chamber of Secrets, I learned of the true culprit behind the slaying of Myrtle Warren in 1943. It was not Rubeus Hagrid as determined at the time. Rather it was Tom Riddle, a fifth-year prefect who accused Hagrid of the crime.”

“And you know this how?” asked Barty, his eyes focused on Harry.

“Controlling a basilisk would have required the ability to speak in Parseltongue. An ability that we assuredly know that Hagrid does not have. Tom Riddle, however, did have that ability,” responded Harry. He breathed in deeply, “It would look good on the part of the Ministry to allow Hagrid to complete his education in private tutoring.”

Barty looked pensive, and Harfang Longbottom stepped forward, “The Longbottom family would be willing to sponsor his educational tuition if he is permitted to have a new wand and remain here as Gamekeeper,” the last portion was directed to the Headmaster. The latter nodded with a broad smile on his face.

Barty looked over to both Moody and Alphard. They both gave him a nod, and Barty removed his hat, looking in Harry’s eyes, “I will make sure that paperwork is filed by the end of the day,” he turned to the Headmaster, “He should receive notification later on this week.”

He put his hat back on and moved to the door, “I will report everything to the Minister,” he looked at Harry, “I imagine they’ll want to award you an Order of Merlin for your work here today. You should be proud of yourself, professor. I imagine your actions today saved many future lives and brought justice to another.”

Barty looked at all the aurors, “The events of today are being covered by the Auror’s Oath. Revealing what you learned today in the Chamber will see you locked up in Azkaban."

While Alastor stayed behind to make sure that Dawlish’s body was well taken care of, the other aurors left with the Head Auror and the Department Head. Harfang left shortly after promising Albus that he would do what he could to help Hagrid adjust to his new situation. Arcturus left with Harfang, only having come to make sure that everything had gone smoothly.

Charlus stayed behind, and Harry was amused to see how relieved the man looked. Stepping forward, Harry asked, “Would you like to come and see my new quarters?”

Charlus smiled widely, “That sounds like fun. I could use some firewhiskey, though. It’s been a long day.”

Harry snorted as he led the way to his rooms, “I doubt that your day has been as long as mine. Though, I suppose that I would not turn down some firewhiskey myself at the moment.”

Charlus laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, “That is very true. Let’s see about getting us some drinks then.”

Harry smiled as he opened the door to his chambers when they arrived, “The good news is, I fully stocked my cabinet earlier this week, so I should have plenty of the stuff laying around.” 

He led Charlus inside and headed to the kitchenette while his uncle took a look around the apartment, “This is a nice place you have here.”

Harry grinned over at him from the cabinets, “I like to think so. It’s cozy and reminds me a lot of the Gryffindor dorms. When I first moved in, everything was in green. I felt that the place needed some refurbishment. The first thing I did was change the color scheme, and then I got some new drapes for the place. Want to see what I think the neatest thing is, though?”

“Sure,” Charlus answered. 

Harry placed the glasses down on the counter and led Charlus to the door to his office, “If I come through the office, I can get to my classroom without having to take any winding routes.”

Charlus whistled appreciatively, “That will be useful in avoiding too many crowds between classes if you don’t need to.”

Harry shrugged, “It’s possible. If my past DADA teachers were any clue, I imagine that I will probably still be bogged down with things to do that are not relevant to my apartments or my office.”

Charlus nodded, “That’s a good point,” he shot Harry a grin, “What about that drink you promised me?”

Harry smiled fondly, and they went back into the apartment. Charlus took a seat while Harry prepared the drinks. He used a Frosting charm to cool the drinks before joining Charlus in the sitting room. He handed over Charlus his glass and took a seat. Taking a sip, Harry let himself relax after everything that had happened. He savored the heat that traveled through his body after swallowing the alcohol. 

“The last time you were in the Chamber,” Charlus began softly, “it was to save the Weasley girl, correct?”

Harry nodded, his eyes clouding over as his mind drifted in thought, “I was twelve years old at the time. Ginny was a first-year.”

“What was it like being in there again today?” asked Charlus, his voice soft.

Harry nearly snorted as he thought of the fear that had shot through him at the time, “I felt a bit helpless at first. Even with Fawkes there, it’s hard to forget an experience like that.”

He paused, gritting his teeth as the memory of seeing Ginny on the ground in front of the statue came back to his mind, “I almost wasn’t able to save her.”

“Maybe,” acquiesced Charlus, “but you did save her. You stopped Tom Riddle.”

“And now I’ll have to face him all over again,” responded Harry, feeling more than a bit bitter.

“No, you won’t,” denied Charlus. Harry gave him a stern look, but Charlus merely raised an eyebrow, “There’s no prophecy this time. Nothing is holding you to staying in this fight.”

“Am I supposed to just run away then, like a coward?” spat Harry.

Charlus raised his hand in a calming gesture, “Not at all, but even if it is your responsibility, you will not be facing him alone again. Potters stick together. There’s nothing that is going to keep us, your _family_ , from standing by you in this fight.”

Harry looked down, feeling slightly abashed. His uncle’s voice had him raising it again, “I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep it up this long. Or how Pomfrey didn’t notice.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry, looking slightly defensive.

Charlus merely smirked, “You’re the same way Fleamont was when he worked too hard. Remove the glamours, Harry.”

Harry wanted to deny their existence. He tried to deny it vehemently, but he felt so _exhausted_. He muttered a quiet, “Finite,” and allowed the charms to fall. He winced when Charlus could not hold in a gasp. 

Harry’s cheeks had sunken, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a dead man walking, and Charlus became even more impressed with his performance against the basilisk. But with that emotion came a roiling tide of anger at the younger man.

“Do you have a death wish, Harry?” he hissed.

Harry shook his head, and Charlus growled, “Then why would you do this to yourself?”

Harry shrugged, and Charlus felt even angrier but he forced himself to calm down and ask quietly, “Tell me what the problem is, Harry.”

This seemed to rile Harry up because the young professor stood and threw his glass at the wall, “THEY’RE GONE! ALL OF THEM ARE GONE! I CANNOT STOP SEEING THEM IN MY HEAD! BUT I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO SEE THEM AGAIN! I HAVE TO FIGHT IN THIS FUCKING WAR AGAIN! BECAUSE I CAN’T TRUST ANYONE TO DO IT RIGHT, SINCE THEY SCREWED IT UP THE FIRST TIME!”

He fell to the seat, looking defeated. Charlus placed his glass down and spoke softly, “I know that you miss them, Harry. And I know that nothing I tell you will help you move on. But we, your family, will be there for you when you need us. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ve been given a great opportunity to change this world for the better.”

“Why couldn’t I do that in my own timeline?” asked Harry resentfully.

Charlus shrugged, “Maybe the universe felt that you needed a kick in the rear to get started.”

“A kick in the rear?” echoed Harry.

Charlus nodded, “Who knows why anything happens?” He placed his hands on Harry’s knees, “You’ve lost them all, yes. But this opportunity, it’s a chance for you to change the past for the better. You saved my life, and indirectly, you also saved Dorea’s life.”

“What about Dawlish and Nameir?” muttered Harry, looking down at his hands.

“We’re in the middle of a war. You’re not going to be able to save everyone, Harry. But you see,” he paused and took Harry’s hands in his own, drawing the younger man’s eyes, “that’s the thing. It’s not your job to save everyone. People will die, friends of ours,” he took a shuddering breath, “and yes, possibly family members will die. We will just have to do our best. Our family did not raise you, and this means you did not learn our magic.”

“Our magic?” asked Harry, looking intrigued. Charlus had to avoid sighing in relief. It seemed that Harry was no longer focused on his grief.

Charlus smiled, “We Potters have been dabbling in the magical arts for over two millennia. Specifically potions. The first in our family to go by the name of Potter, Linfred, was a magical Roman family’s scion. We can trace his ancestry with our books to pre-Empire Greece. And in all that history, we saw a common thread. The Potters are spectacularly adept at two branches of magic. Every generation, no matter their other strengths, have shown an extraordinary aptitude for the use of potion and transfiguration.”

Harry was watching his uncle with rapt attention now, and Charlus gave a small chuckle, “I will begin teaching you our magic. You shall become a true Potter, in magic as in name.”

Charlus stood, “Harry, you might never stop grieving for the world you lost, but don’t let that blind you to the world that you have gained now. You’ll have a chance to watch your parents grow up. That’s not something to be dismissed out of hand. Take this opportunity by the horns. Build a better world for Hermione and the Weasleys.”

Harry stared at the small oak table in front of him, and Charlus placed a kiss on his brow before taking his leave through the Floo. Harry barely noticed him leave, though. He was pondering his uncle’s last words, _Build a better world_. Harry could do that. Harry removed the Marauder's map from its place and looked to where he knew the Room of Requirement was. Building a better world meant removing Voldemort from this one. 

“Jetty!” called Harry out into the quiet air of the apartment. A pop signified Jetty’s arrival. He was a smaller house elf than he was used to seeing. He bent down and smiled fondly to the elf, “Hello Jetty, could you please show me a room where I can go look for missing items.”

The elf thought for a moment before jumping up and down, “Jetty knows! Master Harry can use the ‘Room of Missing Things!’ It is being perfect for you.”

Jetty didn’t notice Harry’s eyes light up with glee, “Could you please show it to me, Jetty?”

The house-elf nodded and grabbed Harry’s hand. The elf pulled Harry out of the room and began leading him to the seventh floor. He let out a small grin as he went.

It was time for him to go hunting.

* * *

 **A/N: The basilisk is dead! And so is Dawlish, for that matter. Oh well,** **_someone_ ** **had to go. I have a Discord now for my stories! The invite code is https : // discord . gg / BR67c7K4BR (just remove any spaces; or alternatively, copy the last section and paste it into the invite section of Discord). Please leave a review, whether you loved or hated it. I will see you guys in the next installment of** **_A Black Opportunity_ ** **.**


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